it's that place where all that your body knows to do is curl in on itself. you twist and shrivel like cellophane in a fire until you are a fraction of your size, head buried in your arms. you cradle yourself because there is nothing and no one to do it for you.
you rock slowly. it is not hard to detach and see it as it is, babe without a mother. that open-mouthed cry that is silent because the breadth and depth of the noise exceeds that of its only available exit. that primal loneliness, so expansive and so heavy and so old that it feels like a story from a dusty tome on the shelf rather than the thing that has suddenly flowed in where your blood used to be.
she came home
two hours after she said
the butterflies in me
turned to fire, instead.
please don't tell me what went wrong, my love.
do you remember how it was when we first met?
kiss my lips before
they go away.
let me kiss your lips
while they're still mine.
please don't tell me what went wrong, my love.
do you remember how it was when we first met?
your friends are worse liars
than you
and there's no flowers bright enough
to change my mind.
i awoke alone
and filled with pain.
she's left a letter
that i won't read.
i won't think of what went wrong, my love
i'll only think of how it was when we first met.
