Don’t look back, they say, but every
body does. The neck evolved to revolve—
halfway at least. Breaking up was so
awful the first time, we did it again.
They danced on my grave before
I was even finished digging it
so technically I did not arise
from the dead. Frayed rope
can surprise you. All my knives
dulled by sentiment.
My scars cluster around my knees.
I sat in the driveway for years,
sure the car would turn over
if I could just forget everything.
Halfway, at least.