I’m sorry
and I don’t know
if I’m more sorry…
Tears
I soak in sun,
scheduled
for 15 minutes,
an hour…
someone
spun the wheel
of my emotions
and I am flip flopping
waiting for it to settle down…
so, heads up,
if you cry,
it releases the ghosts
that were holding…
cliff face
that’s what happens
that doesn’t mean expressionless,
contrary to popular opinion —
it means stone
that cannot be altered
without years of erosion
and my tears might get there
eventually but the rate…
it squeals,
an airborne pig,
and explodes,
a soundwave…
rain
releases
the waterfall
of pent-up
tears
pain
begets pain…
You’ve got me, I’m the one who did it.
You know me too well.
Those are my tears, puckering
that paper. I cannot lie.
