you always knew
that i was scared of small spaces.
you act like you don’t remember
but you do
i know you remember.
you spit out the word
         “ claustrophobic ”
like it’s the bitter end of cranberry juice
leaving it stained on the bathroom tile.
now all i can see
in this dark house
is everything you said i shouldn’t be afraid of.
— like small spaces, like you —

can i forgive you ?
          no
should i forgive you ?
          maybe
am i still afraid of you ?
          always