the fawn

I called to make peace,
my head both 
raised and bowed
in defense and apology

Her words biting 
and wounded,

"I think you're fake,"

She adds,

"You're a fake ass bitch."

I politely disagree.
I attempt repair.
I feel both scorned
and pushed away.

I feel defeat
and self-protection.

Years later, 
I wonder about her words.

I decide that, 
maybe I am.

You see, 
being nice isn’t always the answer.

And I’ve learned that the hard way.

you will come to finish what you started

Business demands to be finished.
Ironic how long I ran from it
only for me to chase it down,
arms wide.

The past is too important to ignore.
The beautiful laughs
the risks we took.

Experiences shoved below
as if they are neutral energy. 
Now they rise
I greet them with a smile.

You came,
as perhaps I knew you would.

You came as you could,
liquored up
disinterested in making real contact.

Hands slipped under my dress,
my “no” mistaken for shy propriety.
You desired physical intimacy.
I wanted to know the crevices
of your mind
every chamber of your heart. 

We’ll see what you do
with your items left at my place;
You became my Cinderella for a night.
Yet I'm the one who wants found. 

Until then,
the sun will rise in the East,
only to kiss the sky in the South.
I'll keep your possessions
and I'll return to you
my unfulfilled hope.