I’m alive

which should bring you pleasure

but I know it won’t.

I carry your knife in my back,

permanent cracks in my heart,

a lingering cloud over my life

but lucky for me

the blood is on your hands

The kids?

healthy and growing despite you

wise for their years

stronger than you’d want them to be

and hardened more than a little

They might forgive, but they’ll never forget

Lucky for them

their sorrow is on your back

The house

in shambles, but we’ll manage

even flourish where it matters

protected in the knowledge that

every crack and splinter

bears your bloody fingerprint and stench

lasting reminders that you,

not we, failed in every way

Your replacement

he’s strong, honest, and healing

and promises that together

we’ll repair what you destroyed

our hearts, our economy, and our hope

He’ll restore our reputations, preserve our world

Lucky for us

our future is in his hands