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