For M & K

I regret to inform you
To inform you I regret
I can’t make your wedding
Your wedding I can’t make
but good news: you still can.
But me, I can’t bear it.
I’m not a bear, you see,
I’m the fog in the forest.
My skin is like the paper
your marriage is typed on.
There’s two lines to say, I’m worn
thin. Then again, I’m the earth
folded in half. I’d hate to suck
you in. Truth is: I’m a divorce
not finalized. Maybe, you can’t
understand because you’re a week
from dancing nuptials, from smiling
church pews. I’ve been there, I know.
But me, yes me again, I designed
my shit poorly, my bad, whoops.
Can I be selfish for a moment?
Since when do I need permission?
Three months of shaking myself
awake, drinking myself to sleep,
the thought of another church
and our family with their white
dentures and white perms and
K, you with your white dress,
I’m a storm no one wants to chase.
Hide the dinnerware, hide my slice
of cake because right now I’m all fury.
I’d like to be sorry, so here’s a song:
Oh joy to those lovebirds flutter fly
but my bird got the flu, I need to lie down.
Whoops. Can’t even make it two lines
without ME ME ME. The poem
I’ve been writing all day says
MY HEART STILL WORKS
but I didn’t write that, so
hey hey don’t let me steal
your spotlight. I’m gonna go lie down.