Allison's Archives

The world went awfully still the day that it happened
So still you could hear the rattle of your name being expunged from my lungs
A final swipe at forgiveness hung in the air but you turned your eyes
What reaction? There was nothing left to give
I stopped giving your name meaning when I said it in April,
when I sat over dinner and a sizzling pan,
the last time a complete conversation was had

My love was a habit and yours a hobby
Neither of which was what god had intended
Love is meant to be a purposeful disease out of our control
Made momentarily beautiful before it turns vile
Your shirt a foreign skin I have long since peeled off
Your laugh a foreign language I have long since scrubbed my tongue of
You made a villain and victim out of a star child;
Whose brightness are you reflecting now?

Walking home in the cold, I saw someone who looked like you
I didn’t run, I didn’t hitch my breath, I didn’t swallow relief
I kept walking—it has always been this easy
I cannot justify the tears of winter last
Make no mistake—
There was only ever an us because
You’ve been fed full your whole life
And I was conditioned to yearn for the empty

So you keep your books and the poetry I wrote for you
But unsign my name and torch my handwriting
May the ashes fall on the floor to reveal her name
May she never write about, to, or for you 

Out of courtesy for your mother dearest
I will keep you in the footnotes this autumn
That way, I will have known you for four autumns
And we can call it square
But when winter comes around
And, yes, it will for us all
Do not tell anyone new that you once knew me
For I will sink my teeth and deny it to my bones
What bitterness?
I am just recreating with words the taste of your medicine 

Every autumnal story can be read from two ways
Either everything dies or everything is lying in wait to be reborn
Which narrative our friends choose to subscribe to is up to their discretion
October is seeping through; it will not be forgiving
After all, it’s like you said—
I’m the one who is good at telling stories

October arrives
I am me again
You are no longer you
Somehow that was all we needed

Thank you for last October
Thank you for not being in this one
Do not make a memory out of me
And I won’t make a eulogy out of you