Slowly

slowly
we will not get through this.
I have spent too many nights listening
to old records, trying to find
something to tie us together.
There will be no songs between us.
you have me
afraid to come home, afraid
of walking in on you, on her,
pantomiming nightmares-
I will not sleep
with her sweat on her sheets.
we will not get through this.
I have spend too many nights
drinking suicide songs in your name,
in your memory
the places I thought we’d go
together
never existed.
We will not get through this.

Holly Day's poetry, fiction, and nonfiction have most recently appeared in Canadian Woman Studies, Skyway News, and Ruah. She currently works as a reporter and a writing instructor in Minneapolis, Minnesota, and lives with her two children and husband. Her hobbies include skateboarding, crocheting, and trying to peaceably communicate with uncooperative vending machines.

Email: Holly Day

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