You'll Come Back to Yourself

by Michaela Angemeer

but none of these men ever show up on time and you always left early

i got worse at parallel parking but i can drink coffee black

i’ve figured out how to ask for what i want to yell when i’m being talked over that i can make people feel things they’ve been ignoring just by being honest

loving you was like choosing to cross the tracks even though i knew a train was coming

when he says that he’s scared of hurting you it’s not empathy, it’s a warning

am no longer soft i built this city on broken spines and cracked open rib cages my collar bones prop up street lamps femurs line railroads tibias stacked to build straw homes my smashed skull is why no one lives here anymore i am sorry you expected petals when all i’ll ever have are bones