I rehearsed the apology in the shower

I rehearsed the apology in the shower,

scrubbing the failure off my skin.

I expected the lockout, the late fee,

the cold way the ending begins.

But he just nodded at the screen,

said three weeks was fine by him.

I walked back to my kitchen

while the world felt strange and slim.

I sat down with a glass of tap water

on a coaster I didn't think I needed.

It’s harder to breathe when you’re safe

than when you’re being defeated.