Anniversaries are passing,
But I’m still in this bed,
And the cherubim
Are still laughing
As they circle overhead.
Each one that passes
Stabs me with a shiv
In the back or in the chest,
But either way
The message is clear:
“We don’t want you dead,
But if you want to live
You have to pay
For feeling that fear,
You have to accept
The taste of spent tears,
You have to let go
Of what happened last year.”
I try to explain,
I choke out a plea,
“What happens
When what happened
Won’t let go of me?
Please
Please just
Let me lie in peace,
Let me have one of those
Salted blades you’ve got
So we can see
Just how many
Times my wounds
Can take a fresh cut.”
But they won’t let me sleep,
No,
It’s time to get up,
The coffee is ready,
And I can feel my feet
Beginning to carry
Me out
Of a dream
And into another one.