Tsunami

If you would have told me how it ended,

knocked on my door with pamphlets of proof,

I would have pointed to the no soliciting sign of denial

I had carved into my door of belief, and told you to go fuck yourself.

If you would have told me the hands that held my body through the deepest aches I have known

would soon push me back in anger and blame,

if you would have told me how my body that held the mounds of careful caring would touch another

out of fear and desperation writing my self prescribed fate,

I would tell you I don’t know that girl who so easily gave up the ghost.

If you would have shown me, an ounce of what lay beyond that tsunami called summer,

I would have turned my back to the beach and buried my head in the sand and sang

to drown out the sound of my future knowing soon it would drown me.