Cutting

I wish I’d had a cup of tea
to sip from
It would’ve been more comforting, or at least more dramatic,
As I broke up with you.

I practice all the goodbyes I have in store for whenever I may need them, but in the moment they leave me.

I write rough draft goodbye letters for people and cities, to sever ties with them on facebook and twitter but never post them. Haven’t you heard?, it’s the new writing-letters-then-burning-them.

The only time I ever saw my mother laugh was when she told the story of
The Only Time She Ever Laughed.

She had stayed up late with my dad, painting their new house, before their children were born;
And she was so tired from painting all night that eventually she stumbled off the ladder and plopped her foot right into the paint tray.

Instead of getting mad, she went crazy with laughter. And the two of them laughed for hours about it, her leg being covered in chalky yellow and having splashed paint all over the room.

The next day they had to start over.
 
 
 
Jennifer Corley has published work in Hobart and States of Terror, Vol. III. She lives in San Diego and works with a literary arts non-profit.