we used to speak in hushed tones and vague generalities, skirting around what we wanted from each other, hoping not to offend

there were some good things about that time in our lives, but i prefer now

i'm sorry i've treated you poorly so often, that i've thought it necessary so often when you don't deserve it and i know that even as i'm yelling, i take your grace as license and regret it later

i sometimes believe i do well most of the time, being considerate or affectionate, reminding you (and me) that you are the most important thing in my life besides God, maybe you see that sometimes

i hope

in silent wrath gleaming blinding sharp i sit and smolder, unjustified of course, blinded to the breadth of grace or love focused only on that razor's line splitting my mind catapulting me from your warm embrace, it is right that i am angry, i am angry enough to die

unilateral separation is possible, but almost never necessary, i isolate myself too soon and too often