by Rachel Wilson
This was what I hoped to say
as we stepped out of the movie theatre
after seeing Love, Simon,
but the words dug like daggers
in flesh and once the moment
was over they stayed nestled
within the wounds they made.
I’m scared for the summer after graduation
that my anxiety is a shadow and it will follow
as I step into my job.
I’m terrified I’m going to become you
Woke at fifty to find you’re a number
to the corporation you severed for thirty years.
To come home and argue with father
over the money we’re losing.
To go to bed and wake up at three in the morning
having a panic attack over things you cannot change.
I’m sorry that I’m one of the things
that keeps you from sleeping.
I’ve been breathing in your love
for almost eighteen years that love
like cigarette smoke has caused me to choke
it’s time for you to let me go
and trust I will breathe better air
than what you fear.
You need to stop
putting expired glue on glass cracks,
it won’t stop fractures from forming.
I know I don’t say this back to you,
but I love you too.