The couples
are on the dance floor and
my photo app
reminds me of where
we used to
be years ago
on this
date:
kissing, in
the park, smiling.
I believe we
may have been happy once.
I wanted you
to help me feel financially secure
and work actively on your past money
mistakes.
You wouldn’t.
That would’ve
been enough.
I wanted you
to be interested in spending time
doing things I like just to be with
me
even if you didn’t like doing them.
You wouldn’t.
That would’ve
been enough.
I wanted you
to speak kindly to me
and not threaten or yell or think
you
could say whatever you wanted.
You wouldn’t.
That would’ve
been enough.
I wanted to
be more important than the movies
you obsessively watched.
I wasn’t.
That would’ve
been enough.
I kept telling
you I loved you not only
for who you were
but for who
I saw you could be—
You turned
into someone I couldn’t recognize
and someone
I was scared to love,
hiding from
you in my own home,
seeking
solace in sugar and sleep,
isolated
from friends and family.
You told me
I was broken
and would
never find another.
That may be
true—
now every
man seems a threat,
has the
potential to want more than I can give.
This heart,
cracked and shredded,
I guard
alone and let no one new enter,
knowing
loneliness is the only way
possible
to make it
beat again.
To have it in
one piece, though misshapen
and misused,
cradled in my own arms—
To feel it
pulse in the dark protected under my ribcage—
Even if it
means I can’t be with another—
That will be
enough.
July 5, 2020
Tansy Julie
Soaring Eagle Paschold