when the mist cleared and I
could finally see him
for who he was.
My eyes had spent so many years
adjusting and readjusting to the images
of himself he'd chosen to project that
they'd grown accustomed to confusion.
The warmth in his arms functioned
as both my sanctuary and my prison.
Turning the gaslight off and on anytime I tried to leave,
convincing me that to go was to commit treason.
But I left him that day
and I've never regretted it.
My body finally knew she
was ready to heal from his bruising.
I knew a coldness disguised as fire
would never fulfill me.
I knew there was nothing but ice
behind those gray blue eyes.
It was a rainy day in Seattle
when I finally said goodbye
and since then I’ve never
felt like ever saying hello to him again.
-Liz
-Liz
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