I turn the headphones up.

you gave me a bouquet of
weeds as I was drinking
my third cup of coffee.
you had picked them from
our backyard when I wasn’t

you were smiling
big, and I thought I loved
you. I had gone upstairs to
change into a sundress
and tore a muscle near
my spine.
I called down to you.
it feels like I pinched a nerve
and am having trouble breathing.
what should I do?
you looked up the staircase
on your way out
the front door and tossed a
I don’t believe you
my way.
someone else drove me to
the doctor  and doctor
confirmed it,
prescribed me Flexeril
and wrote me
a note for my unpaid
I laid in bed waiting for the
drugs to subside.

you came home and attempted to justify
why you always felt deceived by me.
I lay numb, relieved of feeling anything
as you recited
everything I’d ever done
that bothered you.
you weren’t sorry,
it’s Sunday and I feel
nothing for you
I drop a pair of panties
on the sidewalk
on the way out and
someone calls me from
the corner.

I turn my headphones up.

it’s Sunday and
it’s true, this too shall
pass and
I feel nothing
for you now.


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