I need to know

Maggie Winkler

  I need to know The way in which we Forgive ourselves For the things We did not say.   We can blame the youth, That fifteen-year-old rage Or everything he had done before. All of the leaving And him being all I had left.   The anger in finding him on the floor Still drunk from the night before And not having come home. Another night of climbing into bed With no one there to tuck me in.   I can't blame myself for not letting him Hug me, knowing full well He'd smell of cigarettes and Vodka tonics but not knowing It would be my last chance.   I can't even blame myself for leaving without saying goodbye With not so much as even A knock on the bathroom door To let him know I was going.   To think of him exiting the shower On the last morning he would do so And wrapping himself in his fluffy robe Still dripping water all through the apartment Only to find me gone.   We'll call it a premonition, That unexplained sinking feeling, The way in which we sometimes Know that something is wrong Even before it goes wrong.   I need to know the way In which we stop carrying The words we did not say. It is tucked under my tongue, Even all these years later.   So when I say that I blame myself, I mean that during my last period Of the day, I thought to text him. Went so far as to open his contact And type the message out   To apologize for that morning, And tell him I'd see him later. When I say I blame myself I mean that if I had, Maybe he would've come home.