I become afraid
of the sun -- I just wanted
love -- she burned me twice.

I see how white light startles.
I snapped a pic and she spun in circles.
She wanted a photograph
to cover her mother's epitaph,
so she could have a laugh.

She smoked to get away -
but this isn't what'd she say,
exhaling, "All we are is carbon
and a lack of empathy."

We blended into hues of
microwave dinners
and church alters.
I used to tell her to go
just to halt her.

We prayed to get away -
but that's not what we'd say,
whispering, "Help us be more
than carbon and a lack of empathy."

Like dropping a pink *** of soil
or jumping through a wave.
Breaking.
But unlike the sea rose,
which died on top of the fridge,
I have salty tears I don't know what to do with.
It can only come back as a name,
not a thing,
in the memory of your breaking smile
and not of the shoreline.

People who fight
their battles alone
either lose the battle
or lose themselves.