I remember evenings
of unfortunate, brittle
sex.
Swearing we'd both crack
under the weight
of indifference.
Those awkward days
filled with subtle ways
how to strangle
each kind word
shot down like beer-can-targets
in the desert breeze.
The Band-Aids and Bullet holes
of our history...
A smear of corduroy
and anger.
A cigarette burn
upon the flesh
of innocence
and beauty.
Unfortunately,
the beauty
was mine.
Band-Aids and Bullet holes
fill the past with regret...
And some new girl's tomorrows
with the same.
I hope she's prepared to bleed...
YOU ARE READING
So I Don't Unravel: Poetry
PoetryJennifer White's poetry focuses on her own experiences as a wife and mother in rural Idaho. She broaches the topics of relationships, death, and her reflections on life.
