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.
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