Cruelest sensation
Rain needles on my skin—
Still warm from
that last ray of sunshine

Someday I’ll finish unpacking.
It’s going to take time, though—
I have too many memories.

Our laughter echoed in the forest.
Chill wind tangling my hair.
Good insulation in my chest.  
Knowing glances.
Someone cares.
Such a brief moment—
Fog and Fate
Humans are social animals.
Today I was reminded
—in the sweetest way.

Heart is no closet
They say—
But in mine
Each compartment,
is perfectly organised.
I neatly fold
Your sighs—
Some still
tangled in my hair.
Your fervid stares,
Vacuum-sealed
In a box on the left shelf,
Next to the neck kisses,
faded birthday wishes,
and hangers —full of
teenage lust—
pressed, rarely worn.

Deep in the middle
of the Irish midlands,
my essence is all over.

You’d put one foot inside
and say I haven’t changed—
hoarding sentimental knick-knacks,
all valueless, all lovely,
all me.

You’d put one foot inside,
it’s ***** and it’s warm,
all irrelevant, all lonely,
all me.

Voice notes of a friend,
borrowed advice—
from their therapist,
in-the-flesh and
certified.
I assure them I’m fine.
I do well enough,
with my second-hand
therapy and AI advice
“The future is here”
And most days,
It suffices.