turning back in the book of healing

i still have conversations with you in my head.

i reinvent everything you ever said.

i walk down clear memory lanes,

covering them in smashed window panes.

you made me hate this city.

it doesn't matter how pretty

the views i’ve admired since i was a child

still are. they don't make me smile.

i still get nervous passing cars that you don’t drive anymore.

i have to pull over on my way to the store; bent over the wheel to scream and keel,

i heave until i turn on a song to feel

anything other than the blind rage

that comes with turning back a page

in the book of healing.

just when i think i’m done dealing

with the all-consuming emotions

that came with a summertime conversation that happened years ago now,

i still don’t know how

to get over it all.

even as i approach the 6th fall,

since it all starting falling apart,

i’m still looking for a brand new start.