they buried me in the soil like i was someone else’s problem, while i was
choking on sandcastles that wouldn’t stand upright when i first made them as a child, my ghost
carried on living the rest of my existence for me in my own bedroom, she calls herself
denial and she wakes up in the same sheets i died in, she does everything
wrong and everyone believes everything she ever does, on the breakfast table
she holds herself like an apology stirring herself into a mush of soggy cornflakes, see
she says it makes her easier to swallow, in a room full of people where everyone talks
she is a question mark, her back arched into her table when she speaks
everything goes unanswered, to herself she sounds like ???????????
in a room full of no one, she presents herself like an open prayer book
legs spread apart, waiting for someone to take her in like gospel, but in front of the man
she wants to be anyone else, she holds my breath for me when he walks past her
and deep in the earth, i can feel my own heart disintegrating,
to a house with no room for her anymore, she is a funeral and her goodbyes sound like
i swallow lumps of earth and she spits out a mountain rang.