Madison Grove Splintered Dreams

Madison Grove

Splintered Dreams

“I’m sorry” Is such a simplistic phraseBut holds all the power. I never knew how you planned to use it. Were you sorry for the broken Christmas ornaments? Or for being late?

I never understood how deep your soiled Roots went when you planted thosewords, Because I never got an apology for the Tarnished treasured trinkets.

You cooked me dinner in silence, And said that you loved me from the hallway, Too scared to cross over the doorway’s threshold. But there was never a mention of why the Angel no longer adorned the top of the tree. Or why the ornament that I handmade for you In Mr. Kube’s third grade classroom no longer decorated the green bristles. We packed it all away in boxes And placed them in the basement of our memories.

When I excitedly showed my first love the angel, He grasped it with one hand and closed his eyes,

Before smashing it against the walls Surrounding us. The sound of itcollapsing echoed the halls Of my memories. After he left, I picked up the now even smaller pieces, And shoved them back into the box.

When I hesitantly showed my current lover The third-grade ornament, He took it into his hands and caressed its shards, Before looking me in the eyes and saying, “We can fix this.”