Home > poem, poems, Uncategorized > This Is Not an Apology

This Is Not an Apology

I want to hear your voice,
but I don’t call. I want to say
I miss you, but I don’t.
I want to be close to you,
so I wear your shirt
to bed. It doesn’t smell
like you anymore,
and I don’t know
if that’s better or worse.

The cruelest thing, lately,
is my memory: the way your laugh
deepens, the feel of your pulse,
the shape of the word safe
etched into your hands, the electric
of your kiss, a shock
of a miracle, warm
as a thousand Springs.

Where did it all go? The everything
that renamed itself
nothing, as if changing love
to mistake erases the truth.
I was there.
I know.
I still can’t say your name
out loud without
the syllables leaving footprints
on the word want.
I still can’t say your name
out loud
because it’s complicated,
because I shouldn’t be here,
because I don’t love you—I can’t,
because I know
how good it felt, then
how bad, and how
in the end, there was nothing
worth forgiving—
nothing worth your fight.

Here, take it. This
mouthful of sawdust,
this cauterized bad history,
this slow bleed, this loss,
this burn, this plastic heart
walking a mile and a half
with one shoe on gravel—
I’m right here.
I haven’t changed directions.
I haven’t snuffed out
the light.

What I wouldn’t give
to hear your voice, to remind
you that there’s magic in it,
and even
when you don’t deserve it,
there’s miracle too.

Sometimes, it still feels
like we’re racing
down the road at night,
no headlights,
just a dangerous curve
I can’t write an ending for.

Here’s the truth:
I fell in love
with everything difficult
about you, all blown
glass and scarred bone,
but what was
underneath the raging quiet,
gathered and howling,
all hot breath
and restless—
I love that too.

This is the poem
I’m writing, because
I can’t call. This is the poem
I’m writing, because
I wish you would. This
is not an apology
for love; this is a pomegranate
heart, an offer,
an argument. This is
my best defense against winter:
my open hands
full of Spring.

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Categories: poem, poems, Uncategorized
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