when the world shatters

why can’t you forgive me?

I promised you
the world wrapped up in
teddy bears and chocolate
kisses and peppermint hugs

I wound myself
in seventeen ribbons,
all pink and white
with a red bow in my hair

I lined our bed (it's so lonely
without you) with velvet and
diamonds—some of them even
for real instead of pretend

I cajoled you
with serenades until
my throat ran dry and the neighbors
threw old shoes

I even (and this was hard)
bent my tongue around
an “I’m sorry” and when it didn’t work
the first time, I said it again

I’m tired of bloodying my hands
on your locked door