I'm not going to tell you how mad I got,
now that I know that you were sick.
I said to the mirror but at you:
you know how worn down I am to being let down by you
and it did not exactly dissipate but I also did not brew.
I quipped this would have been much harder two years ago
careful not to slip in the satisfaction of too much gratitude
for being the reflection wall of learning to calm down and wait.
I was floored by the thud of how real it felt when the cheese balad came on
on that old mix tape, and crooned.
I think it's about forgiveness
even if you don't love me anymore.
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