i sometimes have
to hold my breath
to fight the fire
in my chest
though i’m not sure
I know why it burns
it could be that
i miss my grandparent’s
peach orchard
when I would
drink their ripe juice
play and laugh
in the morning sunlight
or maybe i regret
when she held onto my chest
and i pretended she
wasn’t there
maybe i miss your lips
on mine so naturally
after you smelled my neck
and said the cigarette smell
calmed you inside
maybe i’ve learned too much
about the world
and myself
and i want to see
stale coffee rings on napkins
instead of ghosts
in the corner
when i sleep
i want eyes to look at me
with love
and the night to not call
to me
like a sad friend
who has nobody
maybe i miss
a hand in mine
and nowhere to go
but the fire
is there nevertheless
so i hold my breath
until i am nowhere at all