Aftermath | Ryan Lee

That meteor we saw in April
didn’t mean anything
nor did the fireworks in July
nor did every single
I love you goodnight text

not a single one

meant anything.

Let that sink in as a bad diet choice.

Or a fungus that didn’t grow just

right.

And that’s fine, fine—

but what I saw

you
were there

so

what does that say
fool

or

fruitful soul
my love

you couldn’t get
close

to—

your

avoidant disorder

versus

my anxious disorder

they both
cancel

a subscription

but—

at least I felt
the loss
the empty

house I left you
in I bet
you felt

the mean part

                            that was the thing

you couldn’t ignore

like the food I never cooked
or the bathroom I
never cleaned

which was
your focus

they’re lies
an out

to say
I’m done

in text
your style

—I could read you a mile

               numb drunk

unable
to

process
a
spider

crushed in the sink

you’ll live this way

haggard
and young

like a bad split

end

where you raise
your hand

for help
because the nurse
ignores

the call light

because it was all too late

and not early enough

to say I was

mostly alive.

Ryan Lee graduated from the University of Montana and spends his free time writing poems and fly fishing. He also studies radiation.  His poems have been published in Olentangy Review, Cowboy Poetry Press, Annapurna Magazine and Z-composition among others. 

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