To the people who left me
did it taste honeyed,
the leaving?
Did you wipe me off your hands like dust,
like something that clung too long?
Did you tell yourself I deserved it,
that I was too hefty,
too much blaze,
too much waiting?
It must be easy,
to inscribe someone out of your life
and pretend they were never there.
Teach me, won’t you?
Because I still drag you
like a sliver in my sternum.
U