i know guilty
i see it in everyone
one count
two counts
i know not the innocent

i know the guilt
i can see it eats you up alive

guilt=guilty
remember that before you see a prison sentence.

The world is the same

for you and for me—

What we see

depends on

where we stand.

but i still see it
it is always in my mind
but i cannot find

i walked downstairs to my room
and cried the way i had taught myself.
curled up in a ball
tears dripping to the ground
gripping the floor
screaming
crying
yelling
but never heard.
silent.
i would never wake my family!
why, that would be mean.
so i cry.
silently.
and rip my hair out
and try not to cut
and punch the floor
and hug myself
and punch myself
and hate myself and feel so, so sorry for the little boy who had to deal with this.
for myself.
i hate this

When I read
poems from the past,
I barely understand them.

I try, yes—
but they are minds
from another time.

It takes time
to connect with them.

Then I imagine myself:
will they, in the future,
read the poems I write to you
and understand
anything at all?

sorry i hurt you
i won’t apologize for
leaving-i just can’t