a silent apology to 0216

Stop,
stop, how can you say that, how can you use such cheerful words,
yellow, yellow even on a black background, how can you smile at me when I
am wearing black, when I have worn
black for three days, how is this something you can tolerate? What is my
purpose, what is my worth, I have failed in the most egregious manner. I
need no scarlet A to convict me, for the guilt pollutes my soul, is
etched onto my bones, and when I die and they
cut out my heart under the microscope, they will find it written there
as well. Youth, now, what is youth, joy now what is joy, there is no
place in me now for such frivolous things. I am an old woman, aged,
lined and scarred, my fingertips bleed with every
breath I labour to draw. Darkness dogs my steps; my shadow strangles me
silently, the cold wind pierces my lungs, but I don’t feel a thing.

Soaked
in sweat, I wake – no I don’t because this is my life, this is real,
happening, the consummation of my existence. Tell me now, tell me the
reasons, I am a whirlwind dying.
Trash and bits of leaves falling uselessly to the ground. Sweep me under
the rug, under the sky, forget about me, I did not belong here. Do not
whisper my name. Do not remember.

I’m
sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m not sorry at all. Yes I am, God, this is not a
stain on my hands, not a damned spot, it is my very skin, blood, bones,
it will never come off. I’m
so sorry, though it was not preventable through any actions of my own,
not through any I knew how to take. My breath is gone, my gaze is weak,
my blood cools in my veins – I give myself over to you. Take me, take
this in his stead. My world is cold, I am a
husk, shell, frayed carpet underfoot. Leave me, take my breath, may it
give life to your memories of him, glowing in the darkness.

I close my eyes; may you open yours to him.