I tried to talk

 It began with my fingernails.

The wrong colour, 

too yellow. Why is that?

The fake tan smelled strange. 

Stained the sheets.

Didn't matter

about the melanoma that took him away

We should fix that.

"A rose surrounded by weeds" he said

"and I am helping to trim them"

Yes,

I felt every cut.

I looked prettier with my hair tied back, 

he said. I told him

it made me feel unfamiliar to myself

brought back memories of 

seeing my reflection, patchy

unlovable

I couldn't tell whether feeling unlovable

was still part of the process

Maybe 

I should get used to the feeling

I expressed concern over my boundaries

the breaches crashed like waves, 

constant, overwhelming.

Said I was too friendly, that I wouldn't

be respected if I kept that up

But I don't think silence suits me

any more than the ponytail.

The house needed to be rearranged

My furniture was wrong, the layout 

inefficient. There was no room for him

The cat took up too much of the bed

I tried to talk

I tried to talk

I tried to talk

about all this. 

I say no too much, he says. 

I say yes too much, he says.

I am stubborn, unmoving, unwilling 

but I subjugate, step back, shrink

away, I don't

grow towards his light

"Can't you see this is what you need?

That this is what will help?

I can't make you love me.

You don't trust me."

I tried to talk.

The cat died. I cried 

quietly on the bed.

A day later, it was too much

An overreaction, grief expelled incorrectly

A cork thrown at my head

While I fell asleep, exhausted

I sank into the blue.

The energy to fight left the room

but still, I tried to talk.

We tried again. 

I tried again.

I tried and tried to talk.

So now,

when I close the door,

when I choose to walk

I will be know in my heart,

that I tried to talk.