Leave, she said, but leave
I could not,
knowing I would never
be another, knowing that
I could run away and still
wind up back
at my old self, crusty
breath, busted knuckles,
bruised conscience,
Leave, she said, but did
not mean it, or I thought
she did not mean it
until she turned and spun
and left me with cobwebs,
regrets about myself.
