Progress

The sight of your face
in a picture
on a screen
is still enough
to almost ruin my day.
If you stuck a thermometer
in my veins right now
it would read 100 C -
before the glass would shatter
and Mercury explode
all over the floor
of this crowded subway car.
But I'm learning to breathe,
to silence that voice -
well, at least ask it to shut up -
for this power over me
you once had
you simply don't deserve.
My day won't be ruined
because of you -
enough days already were.

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