NEW STAINS

This one didn’t start about you either. At first, it was all city lights and new beginnings, strangers stuttered words and paths less traveled. But I tripped over you in my laugh, stubbed my toe on your memory and the next thing I knew I was standing in the shower trying to scrub you out of my bones. I choked on your smile when my lips hit his, somersaulted my stomach into too many yesterday’s, fell off the bed and hit my dignity on the way down. 
Now I’m trying my best to yell with the thunder, fold my laundry with the kind of courage it takes to skydive and write down all the good. I’ve been taking bleach to the stains on my heart, stealing pencil erasers and white out in attempts to be clear of you. There are new stains left in the place of you. Some days I’m ashamed of them, but on most I wear them proudly, marks of love once won, a happy heart, late night lit eyes- and I smile. Thank you for canceling my subscription to your laugh, frankly I was tired of hearing it every time I tried to sleep. Instead, I think I’ll listen to the stars and their persistence of everything magic- the things that make us wonder. Because these won’t always be open wounds, I won’t always cringe at the sound of the first letter of.. Your favorite color, or the touch of the sheets on my toes. There will be sunrises that welcome the day in like I’ve never seen a blue sky, beautiful words I can’t play back often enough, and people- ones that sing and dance and could care less about the fact the music isn’t playing. Right now, I’m here, and I’m breathing, and the world is existing another day just to prove that things keep going. And that’s all the proof I need to start flooding my bones in happy.