to the place before
the matter. You are in
another place now. You're another
woman. You can't unsee

the things you saw. You can't undo
the things they did to you. They're
part of you. Pieces broke off. You can't
unhear the angry voices. You can't

unwrite the pages. You wear
the battle scars. You cover them
in make-up and smiles. You toast them
in ***** and lime. You pen them in

stanza and line. You sit with them
on the sofa. Walk with them to the bath. You carry
them to bed. You even pack them in
the suitcase boarding the plane. You take them

on vacation. You don't go back
to the places. You don't talk to them. The days
before it didn't matter. The days you ate
snowflakes and drank rain. The days you soiled

pink ruffled ******* and made
mud pies instead of apple. The days you stole
the letters in Scrabble. The days you floated
in the bubble. Till it popped like a pimple.

If life were only simple.