It's Okay

I did not get to be mad

well,

I got to be mad, but just for just a moment

a moment when the world’s rotation took a break

and avoiding your gaze

I watched the wind devotedly hold onto the trees

the way I thought you held me

and I witnessed the world

that I saw through rose-colored glasses

shift

pulse

and finally crumble before me

shaping into a familiar,

yet long-forgotten,

vastness of nothing but gray

and I felt the lump in my throat grow

suffocating me,

then the lump became a blade

shredding me,

tearing me open mouth-to-gut;

every sense of stability

falling out with my insides

at your feet—

but you looked away

occupying yourself with the grass

as I shattered in front of you

every piece you ripped up

was the popping of the seams

that I had to stitch

my heart together with

holding back vomit

I think to myself

it was my fault I guess

for letting myself feel secure

as my clothes fell to the floor before you

like they fell before him,

and her,

and them,

and him again

but the moment passed

with a quivering inhale

followed by an eventual exhale

I quickly put myself back together,

gluing the pieces

of my broken reality into place

sewing up my skin where

your transgressions had torn

and I kissed the lips

that you willingly brought to hers,

looking into the eyes

that explored her physique,

and forgave the mind

that had once given me hope

that I was good enough not to destroy

but now that saw me as not permanent—

not her

“t’s okay” I mutter

but it isn't