i hear those chords again,
pressing on the walls of my throat,
washing over my ears in waves.
across the trembling eaves,
you, a stark silhouette
in a stillness i will never find.
and why the thought of this
brings tears to my mind,
i cannot know.
lifting the drapes from my eyes,
shining light on my memories,
you listen like i’m someone else.
i can’t fear you anymore.
walls of wagon red,
paintings of psychedelia and skulls,
the lamp that looks like an animation.
the amount of times i need a breath doubles yours
but only because i sing louder
as a one-girl army,
an army of differing tongues.
the crux of this is your hand in mine
and that it never happened.