The way I thought always meant forever,
is the most embarrassing

The way you taught me silence
– to not trust the beats of my memory,
is the most cruel

The way you walked away when I said please
and fell
to my bleeding knees,
is the most unmerciful

The way you pushed me on that rusted merry-go-round
until I was too dizzy to see the moon,
break speed,
is high treason

The way you said that I asked to be spun
is a legacy
that you can leave to your children

The way I tried to make you laugh while
suturing my own heart,
is a secret –
an ode to the words, ‘you’re what I want’

You’re what I want,
an echo chamber of mistakes

I don’t know if mistakes can be juiced
but mine drip like the plums of summer
bitten too late

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