I guess,

I guess,

There is something I have to repair.

Feels right,

sometimes unfair.
I want to say that there are things that can be left abandoned, ruptured, broken,

leave them fragmented,

unsaid.

Don’t mend.

I guess,

I have to clear the air.
Slate.

Distracting myself,

avoiding or—

Not convinced yet that this is my doing and my action to take.

I would not want to create more hurt where there is enough to go around in terms of pain.

Collective grief.

We go places and see people,

we don’t always wish to see.

But, ¿Do I have to apologize?

No.

maybe, all there is for me to do is to establish that there is no animosity.
Playing games,

running away,

curving every chance I get.

It would be disarming,

handing back the power,

vulnerability is hot—

To me.
I mean, I said that before.

I still mean it, perhaps.

Maybe.

Applogize.

I guess not.

Just taking a stance.
Posture myself,

unless I am of course still hurt.
A part of me, maybe.

I guess.
It might be time to let go of the past.

Resentful,

stubborn.

Egotistical middle schooler driving full force,

trying to prove.
I do not know.

This is my rupture to repair.
My breaking of bread.

I was not harmed,

maybe,

just hurt.

That is from before.
Today, I am just hung up on the last bit of my old ways.

“Seen on the street, like we never met”

So,

so,

so,

resonatingly

childish.
I guess, I am an adult.
There is a gain, the cost is low.

Exposure does not mean danger,

it is not a big announcement anyway.

I will just say,

all is well.