One of us will leave first;
I pray it is I.
Prepare the coffin and lay me to rest.
Look upon my face one final time.
Cast the sand we gathered by the sea,
and let fall a single tear
for all the years I will not see.
I have no heart, yet I have held every beat of yours. I was stitched from quiet thread and filled with soft, old wool, given a face that could not see - yet somehow, I witnesses everything. The tears you buried in my worn-out ear. The secrets you whispered only
BEFORE Before marriage, nobody asked if I wanted to be happy. They asked if I could be easy - easy to feed, easy to marry off, easy to summarize to relatives in one flattering sentence. Nobody remembered my exam results a week later. They still bring up the one time
You entered my life the way storms enter summer - without warning, without mercy- and suddenly the pages of me were torn lose, scattered into a sky I didn't know could break open. Or maybe you were never a storm. Maybe you were a song - the kind
We were held together by daisy chains I was always the one making it. Splitting the stem with my thumbnail, threading the next one through the wound- that's what it is, if you look close. Not a loop. A wound wearing another wound to look like decoration. You