i've carved a place for the memory of you
in the hollowness of a scar-lined heart,
the empty-aching space you once filled.
you're not the same in
remembrance
as in life. here alive in only my mind
you're all sharp edges, cutting at me
tearing apart
and it hurts so much just
to remember.
the light bulb on my ceiling
burned out
a week ago, and i'm still
groping at the wall fumbling with the switch when it won't
turn on. so in darkness i go stumbling
across the floor
sliding to a
fall on a black-and-white photo of you.
pieces of you, pieces
of yesterday, still lying restless
all around me.