I heard ‘I’m sorry for your loss’
I lost myself once,
For a year
In someone else’s hands.
They forgot to mention that the line between ‘forever’ and ‘never again’ is so thin that you would step over it more times than you could ever imagine.
I’ll use my new hands to sweep up
All of the hurt that I’ve thrown around like confetti,
Use my nails to dig out all of the harsh words
That have gotten stuck between my floorboards.
Your fingers were saying goodbye
To each notch in my spine.
Like you were writing a resignation letter
Straight to my bones,
An apology for leaving half-finished
Always check the location of your thong before exiting the bathroom. It is possible that you pulled it up over your sweater.
I listen to you humming through the wires as you tell me that my chest is just a hall of fame filled with people who played the game and played it well.
The most natural disasters are ones we always see coming, but are somehow always surprised by.