Sorry

It stings to speak When I remember the taste Of your bitten skin When I remember how Your fists struck the wheel As you drove in the rain your soft face, caked with salt When I speak every toe clenches, everything crashes, my thoughts turn to you and I remember… How I reveled in pitching coals, Watching each hot word meet it’s mark My fiery tongue Uprooting and mottling your deep healthy heart with insecurity My sickly smile Spreading with an inapt pride Over a mess, my red hands my “justified” rage… I was thought I was queen, a delegator, but I was just too wrong to know Though words lend me no help they sting in my mouth they will never be enough and though it is nothing now, I’m sorry.