Grief

Grief
is a vault.
ashes in the wall.
Treasures
too precious
too pristine
to touch

Safe,
away,
lost.
Far,
far away
out of sight
out of mind.

I build shrines
in my heart
to remember.
shrines with no names.
Candles burning
in celebration
to the lack of memory
of love,
of guilt,
of why
why
why?

why?

They topple down
cascading
reminding
why
echoes
tremors
the shrines
my heart
destroyed

forever

voices
telling me
why
why it happened
why they’re gone
why my heart
is cleaved
A script
rerunning
through my all
the why’s
Why,
why
why?

A figment,
to be sure,
But the only
the only
the only sign
that I get.

The ghosts
who never were
wish to be

and I hear them

beyond this bubble.
comes muffled dins
knocking
at the edge
echoing
sound and soundless
a constant noise
distant
“remember,
remember”
Ignored by all

but me.

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Bulletproof Glass

Words hang between
us like glass
about to shatter
Once touched
they fall
flat, a din
sad sound
with an edge
thick
in the throat.

I heard crying
but felt nothing
I feigned sleep.
It’s not my place
any longer.

It’s nice
to read back
over old stories
but your chapters
are over
and I’m writing new ones
without you.

The cracks
you made
are gone
from my skin
and now I
am bulletproof.