Trial & Error

by Suzannah Van Gelder

Trial 

each time my fingers rake down my headboard they leave tallies. a tick for each trial, a scratch for every arched back, bruise, and bite mark. nameless, blameless, they enumerate every distraction every attempt at alleviating emptiness. 

above my bed a vigil where they line like candles, each one in memoriam of the names lost to my mattress. another failed trial, an unanswered question: 

will it ever be enough? 

Error 

Tomorrow I have a date and the day after that, and the following day I might bring an old friend over see if he’s a possible solution. another trial and error. And error. And error. And errorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr will I ever learn my lesson|will I ever have it all|will I ever choose the right one|will you ever stay the night|will I ever know when I am satisfied|will you ever be more than a weeknight luxury|will I ever change your mind|will I ever be enough|will I ever be enough|will I ever be enough|will I ever be enough|will I ever be enough|will I everrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr