In the garden I have tried to take your apology,
To appeal to the very hemisphere of things,
Troubled, taken, tense,
You have unwinded the senses,
Wrecked, trekked me like a speck of dust;
Like an old song, a poem,
You burnt letters in a garbage bin across the bedroom.
Have you never thought of what happens then?
After the fire burns the plastic,
Through the wall and into the wooden floors,
Up, up the carpet & into the curtains?
You never had any consideration,
But I have tried to forgive you,
And you just set my bed on fire.
To appeal to the very hemisphere of things,
Troubled, taken, tense,
You have unwinded the senses,
Wrecked, trekked me like a speck of dust;
Like an old song, a poem,
You burnt letters in a garbage bin across the bedroom.
Have you never thought of what happens then?
After the fire burns the plastic,
Through the wall and into the wooden floors,
Up, up the carpet & into the curtains?
You never had any consideration,
But I have tried to forgive you,
And you just set my bed on fire.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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