No. 24

He left when I stopped eating
Even though he arrived knowing the stakes
And did not believe me
About my heart
About the emergency handholds I have placed
In all the darkest corners
About how I am the best climber
Until I was afraid I must be lying and did not know it
And now
I can’t tell the truth
In case he hears it, miles away, escaping my throat
I can't say so, now. I can't say that sometimes
I still sit in the parking lot of the grocery store
And cry
Because I don't want to go into rooms full of food
I can't even whisper it
In case he finds out
He will know then, that I
Was as marred as he said
So I just say over and over again
“I am better, now.”
And I do this while counting strawberries
And forgetting how to find the bread aisle
But I need him to be wrong.