TheAfterWhys.

I know now,

that the muffled pressure in the dark space
of your car was us screaming into the silence:

I don't really know you,
but I want to.

I want to love you.


_{We were so so wrong for each other.}


I know now,

that the drip burn of candle wax on the back of my hand
was you saying:

It hurts.

This not-quite-fitting-together,
but wanting it so much.


I know now,

that the sound of your receding footsteps
are louder than whispered cries of:

Stay. Please.



And I know why.

I know why we were silent
when we should have screamed.

I know why we could never,
would never, fit together.


I know all of the whys,

now.

After.