See Me

I made a slingshot
from a wishbone,
duct taped a twig
to make a handle,
used tendons from
the heart you ripped out
for elastic
and a napkin with another
woman’s number
as the pouch.

Our love; weaponised
with light from
days too distant –
unsaid anger scalds
too encroaching fingertips
as I pull it back
beyond the boundaries
of acceptable behaviour,
and aim for a place
neither of us remembers.

The last lingering light
betrays bygone truces
showing all the ways
we took wrong turns;
resentment sharpens what’s left
to trip us in the dark.
Broken and bloody,
clinging embers collide
with kindling expectations,
consuming all but the emptiness inside of us.