Every word brought them to this, their first timid lies grown unruly with time. So easy to see what’s right in front of them, a fresh wound to poke. So easy to forget what they buried under the passing days and weeks and months, stacking the seasons high atop one another. Keep the monsters locked in the basement. Never let the sun shine in. Cobwebs dangle from the rafters. Forgive. Forget.
Paint a new history. Gloss over the rough, the flawed, the frayed. Camouflage for a weathered soul. Presents under the tree, fancy wrapping for hollowed out organs. Throw white sheets over the mirrors, the furniture. Flip the picture frames face down. History declares the world in every hue save the one it really is. Forgive. Forget Shut the voices beneath the cellar doors; stack the seasons high upon them, higher still. Make a tower that no one will ever climb. Lace it with barbed wire… just in case. Shift focus from the future to the past to this fifteen dollar bottle of wine. Touch your cigarette to violet-stained lips. Whatever jargon helps you sleep at night. Send the spiders crawling along the walls; hear the city whisper in the shuffle of their legs. Forgive. Forget.
Slip the keys into the storm drain, let the oil-black water carry them to some other when. No glances over the shoulder. Be glad when the trinkets are lost, when explanations are no longer in order. Look hard to the horizons to see which bridges aren’t in flames. They stretch hopeless across the chasm. Debris in the river like broken ribs and teeth. Show no disappointment. Welcome home. Forgive. Forget.