Dawning Creations

My door knob shook,
glass rattled, my windows.
While mockingly silent snow fell outside, echoes of your yelling embedded into my walls.

Confronted with equal animosity, you were suddenly timid.
Apologizing, you made a promise to me.
That would never happen again.

I showed you mercy.

Two years later, in the middle of June, I felt that same damnation in the familiar.
My door knob shook,
glass windows rattled.
You were timid again, I held my breath.
This time you brought a gift.

You’re Sober.