Sunken parts of you.

Refuse the memories,
the knowledge of
an untainted you,
until you're alone.

With fist clenched
and forehead creased,
reality crashes down.

Keep your hands
at 10 and 2.
Don't veer off yet.

Focus on each stoplight,
your foot on the pedal,
the weight of this rusted
death machine.

When you're parked,
when you climb the stairs,
when you lock the door,

it's only then

you're allowed to
fully sink into it.

Into the deep,
into the trauma,
into the loss of you.