SOMETIMES BROKEN THINGS DON’T WANT TO BE FIXED

the nurse checked under my tongue the other night to make sure i took all of my medicine

and it reminded me of you

how romantic is that

and tell me em- ponder me this- how romantic is it

that our lives three years apart are mirroring each other

how romantic is it that i was jealous

spit fire green jealous when the nurses checked under your tongue all those moons ago

remember when my therapist told me that my parents never knew how to love me right

but you-

you came in with your broken hands and sweet dirt eyes and loved me so so right

such tenderness we had locked inside the walls of a hospital such tenderness we could never make last

i’m learning about myself now

all these damn moons later

my new therapist tells me that i can get my needs met without threatening to slit my wrists

and i try not to laugh at her

sometimes broken things don’t want to be fixed

when i sleep i dream we are in a house that is much more than walls

reality is far from this and when i wake i make a mosaic out of your voice

a million love letters later i can see that i was the cage

it’s just- do you remember when you told me

i have seen so much of you grace and there is never any part of you that i have not loved

now i know that

for me to love you

is to swallow my tongue