All the Things You Broke Before

You broke the door

On the way out

You broke the handrail

On the stairs

Leading up

To the second floor

Where the bedroom was

Before I moved down into the living room

To give you space

For punching walls

And smashing mirrors

You broke the plates

Your mother gave us

When we got married

And the clock my dad gave us

When we had Joe

You broke the tail lights on the car

When the engine gave out

And the windshield two weeks later

Just because you felt like it

You broke three of the chairs in the dining room

Two in the kitchen

And the one we had in the front hall

That I used to sit in

When I got home

And I was too tired

To walk into the house

And see what you’d broken that day

You broke terra cotta bric-a-brac

That we bought on our honeymoon

The little porcelain dolls you bought me

When Joe got sick

To cheer me up

And the music box you got me

When he didn’t get better

You broke things I didn’t know

Could be broken

Silverware

Knives split in half

Spoons bent

Forks with the tines missing

You emptied whole drawers

Onto the couch
And left them there

For me to find

You used to watch me

Fix the things you broke

Until I stopped trying

To put anything back together

You broke the door

To Joe’s room

So I couldn’t close it

And then you’d sit in there

Waiting for me to find you

Knowing I wouldn’t come looking

That I couldn’t go in there

Not even if you were in there

Screaming for help

If you’re going to climb down to Hell

You can’t expect me

To go get you

When you realize

Where you are

You broke all the windows

All of them

Every last one

And then you ripped the curtains

Off the rods

And left them in a pile

In the middle of the floor

Of every room

Suddenly I couldn’t shut myself off

Or pretend it was day when it was night

Or vice versa

I guess that was a favor

Or maybe it was a punishment

Or maybe it was both

Because these days

Things can be both

Something can be hurtful and healing

Wrong and right

Broken and beautiful

All at the same time

Our son can be gone

And here more than he ever was

Because now I can’t stop seeing him

And when he was alive

He was only really there

When he was right in front of my face

And everything else

Was you and me

I never loved him

The way I loved you
And even though I know it’s crazy

I think that’s why he left us

Because we were supposed to love him

More than we loved each other

And for us

That just wasn’t possible

So now you break things

And I leave you

And I come back

And you say you’ll fix it

You’ll fix it all

Now that I can’t

Now that I can’t make

Anything better

And you never lay a hand on me

But you break me all the same

You break me down

You break me apart

You break me until I’m dust

In the cracks

Of the floorboards

Ash in the fireplace

Shards of glass

That become specks

And then spots

That stab your feet

When you’re not paying attention

And one day I keep hoping

You’ll break me so good

I won’t even exist anymore

But maybe you can’t break me like that

There’s a scary thing that should comfort me

But it doesn’t

And it’s this--

Maybe me and the way I am now?

The moods

And the misery

And the madness

Maybe that’s the one thing

Neither one of us
Can break