In Different Fires

Feels like a backslide,
if I had to be honest
And if honesty is where you keep insisting,
then it was a bruising, downhill tumbling,
or a brief, but non-fatal car wreck on the street

A long drop, short stop, first fight with a lover
Like, a real fight
Not the passionate, play around nettles,
a rip into skin, only to lick the wounds there

Had I been forged in different fires
perhaps sass would've been the way,
or anger,
pure, sweet and direct,
uncomplicated and persistent in its glory

Me being me, unfortunate as these things go,
deflated like a flan in a cupboard
Shock and hurt did not resolve to self-righteous words,
but stunned into initial Silence and Hesitation
A plague of twins on each shoulder,
now reawakened, stalking every thought

Fervently wishing kinder fires had made me
That a different foundation lay beneath
In this one moment of time,
retribution could had been swift,
and not drawn out in questions and aches,
for us both

So, if you continue to insist
on remaining inside the walls,
perhaps exercise more caution in the future
Such access could cause a lot of damage
and there's already been its fair share here