Transitions

you will cry ugly I tell her. screaming, gagging cries that will echo through the empty until they hit a solid memory where they will bounce back again. and again. and you will tear your skin like you’re the only one who has ever been shattered.

then you will blame. circumstances. cowardice. convenience. until the shame overcomes you because you were never precious. never enough.

then you will remember the dog is out of food and the washer is broken and you don’t mind being alone so much as you mind being discarded.

this, too, shall pass. because the shattering isn’t over. yet.

this time the blame will pass more quickly. maybe the shame, too, until it comes again like the tide. and the next time, or maybe the one after that, you will be impatient with the hurt.

you won’t ever be precious or adored or even comforted.

but…