Postcard from the Last Time You Walked Out

This poem comes from an assignment in my first college creative writing course: we were to write a "postcard" poem, inspired by the work of Peter Skrzynecki. The assignment was to think of an image, a moment, and write to the world as if we were sending it a postcard from that exact moment.

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You are not angry. This morning, the sun reminds you everything is your fault if you stare at it long enough. My hands feel like the morning after, whatever morning that is, whatever I become when my hands stop clenching and I look enough like lovely to matter. This is what belonging to me looks like. You have forgotten all the words to forgiveness. The hymns follow me, still. If love is an exercise in holding your tongue,

you’re welcome.

#college