Yep. Yep.
I thought so.
I thought I was ready,
but I see
in truth
I see some alternate facts at work here.
I gotta take five.

It’s funny:
I’d assumed
with the right kind of distance
with enough miles and months,
I’d be ready to make peace
and could have a civil conversation.
I thought I could be emotionless enough
for us to be normal.
I thought it was time
and we could run to talk.

I thought I was old enough
to be past this shit.

If you leave the premises
for fifteen minutes
I’ll be able to clean up
all the glass, blood and feathers.
Maybe an hour.
Then you can come back in
and I’ll get the fuck out.

I swear,
I won’t agree to another meeting
until I’m really ready for it
or our next anniversary
– whichever comes first.