i felt hollow for the first time
a year ago today.
like i didn't belong to myself.
like no matter how many showers i took,
i couldn't scrub this new stranger away
to find myself again
at the core.
the day before the 50th anniversary of kennedy's death
i had something carved out of me
under a sky of grey
and i didn't believe i would ever feel whole again.
i came home. the news was on.
the only thing that made me smile that day
was the headline:
apparently a new volcanic island sprung out of the ocean
off the coast of japan,
just like that.
last night, my roommate and i discussed
the fact that jackie o was wearing a pink dress
and her husband's blood
and she didn't take either off for days.
this morning i woke up
and my roommate gave me a lollipop.
i ****** away the red shell
like i ****** you off my bones
and i found nothing in the middle
but a core of sweet chocolate.
i looked at my map, right at the spot
off the coast of japan,
and thought about how i'm celebrating that island's birthday
right alongside it.
maybe everyone else forgot about it, but i never will.
tomorrow will be the 51st anniversary
of the most famous ****** in the world,
and still, nobody knows who pulled the trigger.
it is raining outside.
the sky is crying
like i was
a year ago today.