former lovers

sometimes i get

these “urges”

 

i reach deep within

and pull open my ribcage

rusty iron hinges

creak

and the beating heart within

barely held up by

strands of sinew

sagging

 

the rot and mold

eating away

at what’s left of it

 

did you know

that bones are

tan not white?

 

there was a girl

i once knew she

cremated herself

in the back of

a chevrolet

 

and her iron rib cage

melted into a small pool

of glowing metal

 

the undertaker

gave it to me separately

from the ashes

 

and I keep it on a

shelf in my office

where sometimes

i use it as a

paperweight

Reviews

[. serah .]

~ wow... i've read this piece so many times already that i've lost count... i can't begin to express how moving the narrator's journey is... ~ it seems like he has to move entire planets with his bare hands in order to move on... and that he goes through the experience almost every day... ~ i can see how seriously we are impacted by people we have known closely... whether we realize it consciously or not...