Poem by Aeowynn Ayres

Art by Alisa Kokorovic

I look at photos of myself from the period that I knew you, and I am glad.

Glad that the storms you were battling no longer endanger my harbor,

pulling me down below the surface,

drowning me.

I am glad that the bullet holes that you pierced through me are starting to bloom

from the seeds I began planting after you left.

The flowers mask the horribly ugly imperfections you left on me.

They are blossoming, beautiful colors of baby blue and fuchsia and vermillion–

all colors I was never able to see with you.

I find comfort in the fact that you will never smell the shampoo I now use,

and the fact that my sheets are made of a different thread than the last time you left the four

posters on my bed.

I am satisfied with the thought that my life is moving on without you,

and that I’m happier than you ever wanted me to be.