Line

Prompt 4: There is hurt, here, that cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry. - “B” (If I should have a daughter), Sarah Kay

A cold wind swept my cheeks

But did nothing for the screams in my eardrums.

Now I stand at the victory line and look back,

One side's a cliff, the other, Schrödinger's cat.

The grey sun steals my sight, withering, I see myself

On the coldest nights with the thickest covers,

What kept me warm was hope

For you to be there

When the dawn reflects through the stained glasses

Of my shattered will.

I foraged landscapes, dry and wet

Looking for a tomorrow with you

But all I found were ashes in debt

Of our books, memories, and fame.

I walk this line for the last time.

The only way is forward.

I've stepped over scenes with broken dreams

And your body scented flowers.