Mistakes flowed from fissures in reality
amounting into a nightmare made intractable when
resentful sentiments trumped all understanding.
Inhibitions disintegrated against that dreaded line that’s
always a threat to the searching heart,
no, I’m sorry, I don’t feel the same,
the crushing blow that often falls on us
over and over with no clear reasons given as to why.
Imagine never feeling important to anyone you care about,
not that it ever justifies hateful retaliation, it’s just
emotions can explode under enough pressures of disappointment.
There’s not a bone in my body proud of things I said that night;
all I really want to believe is that there’s nothing wrong with me.