Once More

He tried to tell me

That leaving the light on

Would mark a mistake.

I asked myself

If the mistake I made

Would haunt me.

Yes.

Sometimes

Sometimes

Sometimes the love

We stupidly choose to feel

Is grotesque.

This way,

We do not feel the brokenness

Of avoidance:

A self-sheltering.

This is how we remember

Not to forget.

This is how we remember

We can feel.