i.
trapped in cliches about exploding stars
and only existing in sporadic stagnant structure
phrases slip with every blink of an eye
and my home is emptying out day by day
things packed away nowhere to be found
at least for a while we need a break
to become afraid of a month
to become afraid of inconsistent communication
to become afraid after the click of a phone
reminders of anniversaries i want to forget
guilt of everything feeling connected
dry eyes, dry mouth, a headache
the inability to take in a full breath

ii.
jumping off of a moving train
thinking there would be no tracks
but it’s exactly where you stumbled into the woods
with a trail of letters coming from behind
it was too easy to follow you home
now the trail is thicker and deeper than before
lined with white lilies and nicotine
a society obsessed with blame and guilt
it was a matter of time for someone
to find company in 80 proof at 40%
you’re in the hands of the trees now
and the trees can be so reckless
when handling something so fragile

iii.
now there’s ash and thorns in the hallways
and bridges we never knew existed
these days the sun seems to set around noon
and we’re all neglecting our duties
the thought of the past rips the fabric apart
faces are beginning to look smudged
the calendar days are all cleared off
the stomping sounds are getting closer
the glowing eyes in the corner are getting brighter
and the darkness is almost comforting
but all the consolation is becoming white noise
why do you walk with weights in your heels
don’t you know this floor is made of glass?