Sorrow can be red

I have a vein in my chest:

It crosses from the notch in my throat

All the way to my shoulder and

Down.

A blue-green line of life

On my left,

It stands out plainly against translucent flesh;

My thin skin showing well

The pulse of my heart.

It has always been there,

This rampant showing of reluctant life,

And sometimes when I see it now

I think of you.

The last time we spoke –

Oh god, what a fool I made of myself!

I don’t even rightly know what I said.

I only remember you wanting to go,

And the flush of shame was already climbing my face:

My heart insistent on blaring humiliation

While my mind was lost in a stupor.

I know you forgive me my transgressions –

Only because you always do –

But I still want to slice that vein in my chest

And bleed out all my shame and humiliation

Until you know that I am sorry.