In The Suburbs

how long have I slept?

she said, "I thought you hated
The Suburbs."
"I did."
she said, "You don't hate them
anymore?"
"Nah," I said, "It's only people
trying to survive,
much like me."
"Hmm." she said.
"Besides," I said, "where ever you are,
is my heaven."
"Oh?" she said, coyly.
"Took me a while to figure out,"
I said, "but hell is all around us,
while heaven exists in pockets
of moments when love is purest."
I sighed and said,
"You're the only heaven I've ever known."
"Then why'd you leave?" she asked.

There's a million and two excuses
and many of them are truths,
but these kinds of questions...
the excuses are answers at different points
like a graph in 10th grade math,
plotting out, how, at the time, it was
fear and rage and confusion
until it curved up the Y-axis
into pride, and, finally,
into self-loathing.
The function graphed,
is a deeply unsatisfying answer,
even if it contains a profound truth:
i am my own impediment to heaven.
That's why I left,
because of me.
Wouldn't it be nice to believe
you could be better off with me?