Afters

I looked out the window
in the late morning
(too late, I know, I overslept but it's so hard
to will oneself out of dreams and into reality)
The street corner below
looked gray
and sad
but I may have been projecting
Although if I were honest (with myself)
it'd be nuclear holocaust.

I woke with a fire in my chest
I wanted to tell you all about it
You are always the first person I want to tell
any of these things
all of these things.

I know I shouldn't
want to
But it's one of such few truths I have
that I hold on to it
like a precious
gift.

I give it to myself
like a stab wound to the gut.