This Too Shall Bleed

the summer storms
fall on me brighter
now that I am walking
as myself—

a woman

when I separated from my wife
we agreed to share equal time
with our two-year-old son

my son and I
love the farm days

the patient chickens
the hungry ducks
the bouncing tractor
the strong excavator

driving my blue Ford F-150
on my way to pick him up

she texts:

     “he is still taking a nap”

I turn around

two hours pass
she texts again:

     “he just woke up
     but I'm going to keep him”

it unravels as I pull up to
the empty house

credit card notifications arrive:

     $415.71 at Lowe's
     $307.31 at Home Depot
     $164.99 for a Locksmith

we have no divorce papers
no custody agreements
only promises made with air

and now she cuts me

a deep wound bleeding rain
leaving me shaking
face down in the dirt

storm tears gather mud

days — weeks — months

with
no answers
no reasons
no texts

living in the darkness
a crack begins
a bond is breaking

for the first time
I see her need for control

so similar to my childhood church

I can break this down too
I declare!

but do I accept the cost?

I have no choice—

when you are falling down a mountain
you look for a soft landing

but you still bleed