and go to bed?
I’ve burned my tongue on too many words
I didn’t mean.
I forget who I am when I’m angry—
I hate seeing this place a mess—
and forget my shoes in the sink.
The dishes in the hall.
If we had children
would we repeat the same mistakes
our parents made?
Or would we wrap them up in winter coats
And put them to bed with promises
That being good to one another
Is sometimes the only thing we can do right?
If I could
I would tuck you in
The way I wanted to be when I was little.
I would try to hang up my pride
On the coat rack in the foyer
And wipe my feet before coming inside.
And in those times I’ll forget,
Because I will,
I’ll promise to clean up the mess after,
Even if at the moment,
I don’t know if I’ll be able to promise
That I wouldn’t do it again.