Lavender Stalks

I found you in the drawer of my dresser
with lavender stalks and pills without pleasure
You found me in your cigarette’s ember
that helps you forget
when you body remembers me
The irony in recovery
is that we
are one another’s safety
and the reason we hate me
I can’t heal from you without your help
My broken parts are pieces of your shell
I found you in the cold-watered bathtub
You found me in my car with the pipe plugged
The irony in recovery
is that we
are one another’s safety
and the reason we hate me
We bled out all our innocence
to color our roses
to color the moments
to color us in
When I get there
will you open the door
I’m finding out what we were
bleeding for
I forgive you for the things that
I know you know
you might always do
But I bet flowers grow at your feet
wherever it is that you are living now
and I’m so glad.