I needed something to hold onto
And maybe you weren't as sturdy as I had hoped for,
But you were in front of me
Some sort of rope to hold the universe together
You were the wrong kind of thread
One shouldn't use twine to sew skin

I remember the night I rushed home
That road looked like an oil slick
Halfway there, I hoped I could melt into the pavement,
As if mermaids could swim in asphalt
The emergency was that you had run out of cigarettes
I was a graduate student, out of money and out of place
And you were exactly like a hurricane

At some point I was so tired it didn't matter
I would have kissed anyone

There are so many broken windows
And we're
Fine
We're
dancing around the word because neither of us will say it
We promised to be honest in this relationship
But you have PTSD and I have to move on with my life

I have long brown hair and green blue eyes
I didn't realize I had blacked out until I noticed my reflection was in a hospital instrument and I was in a hospital gown
They call them gowns for a reason
I imagined you pulling me out of that cot and holding me up as we danced in the crowded emergency room hallway
But you weren't there when I came around
Or when they performed my exam
Or when I signed my discharge papers
You showed up only when you felt too guilty to send a taxi
I remembered the days I drove that car
And slipped into a dream where I was behind the wheel

We crashed