xi. no lover’s spat

    it was the first time they argued,
              in the pantry looking for bread
          when Ysolde mentioned the family skeletons (so to speak)

what is revenge worth when the soul is at peace?
             and what would she know about peace,
                      a life not lived with scars and wormholes
               feathered lights in her window and warm dogs by her feet –
         couldn’t she see the stake in heart?

he preaches to a god that never heard my calls
                      and call she had, voicemails and smoke signals
                  because her father had believed, not her
                       wouldn’t he come for his only child?
              the white noise in her bedroom had been enough of an answer

     she left the bone-laid cat in the arms of the raven girl
         the pantry too tight for her heart
                    and walked away for what she thought would be forever

Prompt: Cruel

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