folded my fingers into shapes  
they didn’t resemble birds  
but I imagined flight anyway  
you scribbled something on napkins  
left them in the glove box  
that car is someone else’s now  
but I still reach for it  
like memory has a latch

the basement was a place  
not sacred, just echo-heavy  
we taped pieces of ourselves  
to the walls  
and screamed  
not for help  
but to hear the echo  
then acted like it wasn’t us

I made a compass  
out of whatever was left  
it spins  
I spin  
there’s no north  
just motion

I’m still tracing maps  
they don’t have names  
the house doesn’t have a floor  
I keep climbing out of myself  
trying to feel  
something  
anything  
these words don’t answer  
but they’re all I have  
I’m sorry  
I broke it  
I didn’t know what it was

we chased something  
light maybe  
with jars  
it slipped out  
your voice didn’t hold  
it cracked  
under everything we carried

I counted the ceiling  
not the tiles  
just the breaks  
thought maybe  
if I touched enough  
it would explain itself  
but it didn’t  
and the silence  
was louder than the cracks

I tied string to memory  
but it didn’t hold  
the knots  
unraveled  
like everything else

still tracing  
still no names  
still no end  
I tried to redraw the sky  
but it stayed  
unmoved  
these lines  
are all I can give  
they shake  
I shake  
I’m sorry  
I lost it  
I thought I could protect it

this isn’t healing  
it’s just movement  
falling  
forward  
out of whatever I thought  
would catch me  
the glass broke  
but your face stayed  
framed  
by something  
I can’t name

we are  
maps  
hearts  
lines  
none of them finished  
but we try  
we try  
we try  
again