I was so mad
I forgot to be all my sad
survival gremlins work fast
packed most of it up
behind my back
stowed it in the attic
in a dust-draped corner
next to a heap of tangled wires
and a vintage Smith Corona
and now I see
your name permanent, on repeat
a cardboard Sharpie-scrawled
nonlinear timeline
stacked precarious
I keep questioning
why I'm up here
when I crack boxes
they siphon me in
to a grip of whys and ifs
that pin me horizontal
I think I like it
when they topple
pointy perpendicular assault
trying to impale inside
and paper cut
so pulpy marrow
can pry its way back
into my hollow bones