Anything to Forget

I wander into my father's tool shed.
My fingers twitch for a hammer
To smash at my temples so that the memories
May drip from my ear that witnessed
His whispers, his promises.
My fingers tiptoe up the teeth of a rusty saw
Aching to disappear in a scarlet spray.
The prints know, they can remember
How they slid over his skin
So that his shirt fell to the floor.
When My parents went away
My sister helped me burn his letters
In the back yard. I thought I could hear
Him screaming as the white bodies
Contracted in the flames.
And the words, peeled from his broken lips,
Shook amongst the ashes.
At midnight I heave myself up the staircase
To my room where I find his letters
Sorted into a neat pile on my desk.