With cupped hands I show you
the parts of my soul nobody else has
touched.I am prepared for your eyes
to widen in disgust,
for you to take them
and crush them and
throw them away.But you hold them,
you know them,
you love them.And gently, carefully,
you place my darkness back
in my shaking hands.You have seen all of me and yet
there is only love in your eyes.
Tag: leah
Pink Thread
You wrapped your finger around the loose end
and pulled and pulled and pulled until
it broke;
an absentminded afterthought
hurriedly shoved into the armrest of my car
on your way out.
The hemmed end of your shirt left frayed and
blowing in the wind as
you walked away;
a sad reminder of how it used to be before
it’s innards were pulled out.Weeks fall away and it still sits there—
the small ball of pink thread;
the mark of your territory on my heart.
The last piece of you. The only thing
holding us together.
It would be a joke
to think I could ever forget
what this day is.This will always be
your day.For the rest of my life, I will
fight hard daily
not to miss you, but today
I will. Today you will
flood my mind as the rain
outside my window
engulfs the worms.Today I will
wallow in the regret
I have been bottling
in jars and collecting in my closet.
I will tilt my head back and
empty
every single one until
I am drunk with self-hatred,
projecting black-and-white images
of you on the inside of my forehead
when I close my eyes.Today I will
finally take the unopened gift
sitting on top of the fridge
I bought for your birthday
last year and
throw it away
alongside the wilted
beets
I never cooked.I see you sitting in
the grass blowing
out the candles and I hope
I am a psychic; but how
contradictory it is
to wish
your loved ones well and
hope they are missing you,
too.
October 28th, 2015: happy birthday, leyitah // a.s.m
Silenticel 