a truth, in poem format.

finger the distorted balance of
carefully breathing the same air
afraid to open the door, but
sitting close, with scars left
on your hearts and your arms by
years of unraveling, the pain of
re-stitching love back together

the night fire was drawn out of you
in thunderous blindness, a fierce dragon
with a propensity for resistance
when glass shattered, and once safe rooms
ignited with the blaze, in a
chapter that she has already read

she already knows where you have been
why you fuck in a hurry
and wait for a rabid breaking point,
but each justifiable choice
is a delicate line of poetry
a lyric that replays in your head
each compulsive mistake, the beautiful poison
that you both drank,
and lived to accept

© 7.13.2016 heather brager