Stupid Girl

So how are you, my lovely stupid girl? Yours was the blame, you must have seen that young selfish boy with those lit beacon eyes of yours but you let me in anyway. I got drunk on you drunk in your lighthouse and then I cracked that light so you couldn’t tell light from dark anymore just my ascending shadow (that you mistook for love), my bleeding heart all stitched up with the gut-strings of a fresh kill and you hoping I was going to say sorry, be forever contrite for being your mistake. Now a cruel kindness lashes these memories, hangs me like a felon to nailed-up bones, and yes ‘sorry’, and regret for the longest time have been arriving from beneath these old life-raft eyes.