The Prior

I tie the bow back
on the gift you were to me.
I can’t open it.

I hand it back to you
as I stand up and turn away.
My head held high.

I sprint through the front door
and into my car
to drive as far as I possibly can.

The sun is shining,
normally annoying,
but today it’s charming.

Window down; need the air.
One second of breath
is all I had left from the despair.

Blood rolled from my tongue
as I closed my eyes
to speak to you.

A blow to the head
from some unexpected text
can turn even the most sane mad.

You maintained your innocence,
as I shot you down. Truthfully,
you are not guilty of anything.

I simply spent one too many nights
wrapped in a blanket, too warm,
asleep to the beat that my drum was making.

The rearview mirror now faces me;
eyes locked on myself. As I drive
to finish the song that’s blaring in my head.