Today, you sent me a box
full of chocolate and poetry
and beautiful things.
You must have known
your gift was unwanted.
You must have.
You must have known
that I would read your name and address
with dread and a hint of panic.
That I would tuck the box
beneath the table and try
to ignore it for hours,
until its presence
needled me like a thorn
needing to be plucked out.
You thought you sent
love and affection in a box,
but you sent a reminder
of wounds and worry,
a reminder that
gifts and well-wishes
do not heal bruises.
I would send it back
full of wolves if I could.
This poem was originally published under the pen name Gabriel Gadfly.
