I will play the villain on your stage
because I know how often you've
painted yourself in that role.
I'll swallow your poison, your
guilt, your anger because I know
how hard it is for you to taste
your own pain, how hard it is
for you to pick apart the threads
that have sewn you together.
it's like defusing bombs -
I saw you try, I saw your work,
saw your explosions, saw how
much more difficult the recovery became.
I was a bomb too. one that you tried to
hard to pick apart, to turn into a garden,
to make home instead of wreckage.
I know you didn't mean to. I know
you love hard, you love like a man picked
into pieces, like a boy who never stopped
bruising his own hands on the concrete.
you blew us to bits, and it's okay. I blew
us to bits too. you snipped the wrong
wire, the one that held me together, and
we fell apart. we took down whole
cities. we were never going to diffuse,
not like that, not together, not when
we were both tiptoes on over the edge.
I wish I'd met you later. when our
ticking time bombs had finally
run out the clock. when we'd managed
to clean up the debris. when we were
different, our wounds healed. not
fresh, not bleeding like they had been.
like they still are. when we were older.
better at cutting wires.
it's okay. I forgive you. I hope one day
you'll forgive me too.