iv poems

i.
Where are you in the rooms of my heart? You are the walls. Anyone who enters after is mere wallpaper, trim, paint. Your blood solidified these floorboards. There’s a secret hatch beneath the dresser where I go late at night to embrace your bones. You are in my breath and I can still smell your scent. Your laugh is the mightiest draft perpetually echoing through the halls. My heartstrings are the sinews in your feet and with every step induce palpitations; I quack. I will never be able to eradicate your idol, my Isaac, with every silence the pedestal rises higher than my head and my heart has no ceiling your image cannot be contained. You are not even here. You are not even mine.

ii.

We were poetry once. 

We were songs worthy to be deemed ballads. 

We were oceans. 

Now we are opposite shores. 

When the tide arrives my sands soak and hold 

disrupting the flow 

desiring your ebb.

iii.

Never again

Nothing tangible

No skin

Burning carnations

beneath cheeks

jump starting shivers

never again

nothing vulnerable

thick skin

scarred hearts will pump

again but never like before

never fresh

nothing left

no bones

brick

by

brick

sealed

blood wax stamped solidifies

buy time

till gaping graves fill

iv.

Bear witness

to bones breaking

but not shattering

a clean cut

a quick repair

facilitate the healing