the dark side of the day

i burned my hand making a tuna melt.

i suck on the spot, pulling the skin off the

middle knuckle bone of my right hand into my

mouth. it’s looser than it once was, less elastic.

 

see you in the new year we say cheerily, as if

things will miraculously improve, solve

themselves, by the next time we see

each other—just by a calendar flipping.

 

it’s the eve of my birthday and i’m here to

say that nothing ever really improves;

we just find more ways to manage the sad-

ness, the loneliness, the expectations, the

 

inevitable aging. old friends drop away, new

friends are harder to make, and the dull ache

of an old flame is still there, somehow sustained

like a red poppy in a field of unanswered questions.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s