in the absence of the sun

by Emily Curtis

For Rublee, who told me I could and Ferry, who told me I should

You didn’t listen to me when I tried to explain that I have scars so long, so deep, you may never find the ends of them

Hearts don’t shatter they rot

If he does not respect you now, he never will

I hope Karma haunts your sleep Slips into your dreams and leaves you sweating and screaming

You are not allowed to be the main character of someone else’s memoir

They compete over who can become the best version of generic

Empathy tugs lightly on my shirt sleeve and gently whispers in my ear, “they are struggling too”

Falling for you was like rereading my favorite book

You act like I need you to survive but I don’t I have plenty of oxygen, thanks

Learn to take a compliment with grace even if you don’t believe it