Sifting

You look at me and
your smile
falters. 
It should.

You left us. 
I’m left
fuming 
in disbelief.

What did you mean when you said
“Love”?
Now you snatch that word with cruel fists,
crushing it beyond recognition.

I glance away.
I’m standing in rubble,
silent.

Maybe I can handle a
S l o w
S  t  e  a  d  y
D   e   c   a   y,

Can I handle the
sudden, 
thoughtless detonation
of my one sanctuary?

Family.

I sift through the debris;
we are lucky.
Everyone survived.
But you should suffer
bitterly
for every bruise and wound
your twisted apologies left behind.

You know what the worst part is?
Every time I
see your face,
hear your name,
remember your embrace,
I miss you.
Terribly.

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