But Nothing’s Fair after Love
Stevie Edwards
Because I was a bad finger to tie his ribbon to.
Because I was a bad sky
to look up at—
not ugly, but bad. Because I threw myself
into myself. Because I threw
the sky into a suitcase
I left in New York. Because I never learned
to drive myself. Because I needed
a guide out of the woods. Because I lost
my way, sat down in the middle of brambles
so high above my head but didn’t say
come, didn’t say come get me, not once.
Because he said take care of yourself
on the voicemail I deleted.
Because I thought that was taking care
of myself. Because I was cruel with honey,
lured in the ants to squash. I can’t
resent them for coming.
I can’t even step out of my bedroom without
ruining my shoes: I am the wrecking ball
and the closed factory. I am what swings.
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Because I was a bad sky
to look up at—
not ugly, but bad. Because I threw myself
into myself. Because I threw
the sky into a suitcase
I left in New York. Because I never learned
to drive myself. Because I needed
a guide out of the woods. Because I lost
my way, sat down in the middle of brambles
so high above my head but didn’t say
come, didn’t say come get me, not once.
Because he said take care of yourself
on the voicemail I deleted.
Because I thought that was taking care
of myself. Because I was cruel with honey,
lured in the ants to squash. I can’t
resent them for coming.
I can’t even step out of my bedroom without
ruining my shoes: I am the wrecking ball
and the closed factory. I am what swings.