you always knew 

that i was scared of small spaces. 

you act like you don’t remember 

but you do

i know you remember. 

you spit out the word 

         “ claustrophobic ”

like it’s the bitter end of cranberry juice 

leaving it stained on the bathroom tile. 

now all i can see 

in this dark house 

is everything you said i shouldn’t be afraid of. 

— like small spaces, like you —

can i forgive you ? 

          no 

should i forgive you ? 

          maybe 

 am i still afraid of you ? 

          always