Do you really hate me because I loved you once?
or is it because seeing me
reminds me of your own mistakes?
without me, you know that your insides
are like half-melted ice cream care
that someone forgot to pick up from the bakery
because the birthday girl was hit
by a delivery truck.
I am the refrigerated display case
that you must return to
if you ever want to be solid again.
21 April 2001