My heart cracked a little on the inside.
My ribcage caved from smooth words that slipped down my throat
like angel nectar.
On the inside a girl stands there with clairvoyant eyes and a hushed tongue,
but at the center there is a hollowness that remains.
The small things in my life slip through my fingertips so easily.
I cannot catch them.
Catch them.
or
Catch up.
Catch up to the feelings that I leave on the doorstep of my eyelids.
Since then I try to fill the cracks,
the gaps,
the spaces that yearn to feel the fullness I felt
when I was a ripened fruit ready to burst into maggots
and sweetened sap.