out of my control

1/29/17

it’s been six years,

and it seems like

you’ve almost forgotten.

when you pretend that nothing happened,

it feels like nails on a chalkboard,

scratching away at every lost memory

that is still so embedded in my mind.

the wounds have been

covered in disinfectant

and wrapped in pride.

i can still hear the shattered glass,

waiting to be cleaned up.

well, now it’s all clean

and pristine.

but just because you can

no longer see the tiny fragments

doesn’t mean it isn’t broken.

it was five months ago,

but i can still see the pain

in your eyes.

the constant worrying

and heartache of never knowing.

i can hear it in your laugh.

the real ones and the fake ones.

because at this point,

who can tell the difference?

it’s been two months,

and you still talk about it.

but that’s only because

the glass is just sitting there,

while everyone walks around it,

instead of taking the time

to put the pieces back together.

with every breath i take,

with every tear i cry,

it always comes back to this.

everything i can’t change

because it’s out of my control.