I was right to
check myself.
You swept back in
like nothing ever happened,
like you didn’t promise,
like you didn’t hand me a helium balloon
and dare me to dream.
I kept trying to shut the book on you,
it never quite made it to chapter two,
“Us”.
But you pried it open with your
smile and your laugh and your
sorry self-loathing tales
of how shit you are,
only slam the book shut
on my fingers instead.
Well this time
I’m one step ahead.
After all,
smarting
turns to numbness eventually.
So I’ve
burned the book
and I smile
as your face goes up up flames.
Fuck you,
finally.