A Day Too Beautiful for Endings

I tried to speak
More than once
but her tantrums swallowed the air,
drowned out every word with baiting noise.

So I stayed quiet
Not out of fear—just clarity
I knew there was no room for truth in the storm.

She reached for the classics—
Ugly. Broken. Small.
A narcissist. A killer.
You’re the reason I don’t trust men.
It wasn’t true
Just spitfire, catching on whatever’s dry.

I didn’t bite
Not once
I let it pass through me like wind through tall grass.
After a while, it felt like watching from the bank
as the current carried us—
her words moving in their own direction,
me still in the boat,
measuring them against the storms I’ve survived,
waiting for the water to slow.
Not because it didn’t sting,
but because I know now—
some battles invite you back into who you used to be.

She tired herself out
Eventually, storms do

It was a beautiful day—
that rare kind of weather where the sun had weight,
but the air cooled the edges of the light.

A family fished nearby—
kids laughed at tangled lines

Below us, two otters tumbled in the shallows,
like children unscarred by touch.

Above, hawks coasted on warm air,
circling, patient,
waiting for the right moment to strike.

The last time, I thought I needed you.
This time, I was seeing
if you fit my life.

That was it
No fight—no apology—no storm
Just the stone weight of truth
settling into the silence she left behind.

Haiku for the Bench

hawks above the bend—
one voice held back until still
the river moved on

I didn’t raise my voice when I left her—
not because I was calm, but because I was finished.

Sit long enough and silence will say
what you weren’t allowed to.

I used to leave because I was hurting.
This time, I left because I wasn’t.