Nineteen Years Later

Nineteen Years

Nineteen years ago, your thick, oozing mess,
As black as the ink that told me it was
Spewed like vomit
From a drunk freshman’s mouth
Onto a Persian rug in some parent’s mansion

Nineteen years later still denying it was you
While we keep being reminded
By the moist, rotten, squishy stain left
Spilled in selfish greed and haste
As you ransacked a home that wasn’t yours

Nineteen years ago I stood there, naked
Embarrassed by the sudden light
And all their sympathy,
While you tried to make flaccid amends
And leave the room at the same time

Nineteen years later I still smell the air
Sweet, perfumed, like a cup of mint tea
I feel the rocks and the grit under my boots
And hear the birds and the waves
And know that I’m still at the edge of the world

Yet then I look down and see cancerous foam
Jiggling with a blind alien intent
And realize that you’re still here
Whispering in the corner, it’s not you
Nineteen years later.