She always held her trinkets close.
A rusted bracelet from once before
with the name “magically delicious” sprawled across.
He gave it to her once
to make her laugh.
She was always more somber than she deserved to be.
Stony like the cemetery angels to which she identified.
She laughs through her tears
because she knew it to be true.
She lives in a roundabout truth.
The kind of truth that
bites you in the morning.
Wanting to simply shake it off.
See it coming.
A trip before the fall.
How she'd wish she could travel back in time.
To fix the past
and just bask in the light of yesterday.
When childhood was all birthday parties and secret handshakes.
Fingers grooving together making obnoxious shapes
of birds and the bees.
And nothing to cry over but spilled milk.
Now time has aged her.
Bended and folded her.
Creases and lines in her face
to match the ones she could better conceal.
Hidden in her
in a place that remained to be unmoved
since the day he became compelled.
To be where she could not go.
She would often sit alone.
On mellow Sunday afternoons.
On park benches, near shaded ferns.
Just her and her thoughts.
Overtired and full.
Wondering how he was;
if he was happy.
If he was as mismatched
and hollow. As Unhappy as she
found herself to be.
She wondered if he pieced himself back together.
Found life again in the after. Became stronger
than the broken glass he tip toed around.
When they used to love.
She can't seem to stay awake
but dreaming in full wakefulness.
Needing her dreams to soar
into the air like a green balloon
on a day of celebration.
And she'd wish them to soar high.
Make it to the naysayers
and touch their minds eye.
So that they could simply see.
If they would just simply
But she knows that nothing
is ever that simple.