Familiarity

It comes like the familiarity of razor blades to skin:

he is a poem you crafted in your dreams.

You really date a man like your father

and let him salt those old wounds

so they will never really close.

And maybe you could have called it love,

but sometimes, you grieve things you will never

know

or hold

or understand.

And sometimes it isn’t a loss to let go

of a drunken ego war

and that feeling of a man making you out to be crazy,

for the empathy, his intellect lacks.

In the thick of the healing,

you find the most betrayal comes from your own heart—

jumping into someone’s arms

who was always a stranger.

the colors you can see

Are there still beautiful things?