trade.

Sometimes we trade solace for sorrow
or sorrow for security
sometimes those are all the same thing
swallowed whole by the idea of wanting to be whole
to be able to say
oh yes, we are a family now
on the mailed Christmas cards
and in the letters of a new name
to make believe I mended what neither of us were responsible for breaking
that I fixed it all by saying yes
and everything did change, everything
but me
I am still ruined, still a flight risk
I could still drive
with amber burning sunset beckoning ahead
with just him and a bag or two
leaving you to question when the straw broke the camel’s will to live or however that saying goes
and if I ever loved you (I think I did)
I can already picture it
you, unable to comprehend that I would say all the right things
and yet not know what that word or the thought of steadfast ever meant
me, believing it will be so much easier
it would make more sense
and we’d make it
like we used to
just me and him
broken again

the blood
& bones
©️thebloodandthebones