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 ? 


should i forgive you ? 


 am i still afraid of you ? 



This poem is about: 
Our world


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