Tuesday Afternoon

I saw them at the store and I stopped breathing—

they saw me too and turned, leaving

me standing there alone,

like I was already gone.

We had fought.

I thought I was right, I thought that I'd taught

them something, but standing there

I finally got it: they don't care.

Losing an argument

and losing the right to be angry about it meant

the same thing—both add up to nothing,

both leave you hollow, both leave you suffering.

My hands were heavy in my pockets.

I grabbed something random, couldn't drop it,

and I didn't look back.

I had lost everything, and that was a fact.