he lives in song lyrics,
bonfires, and
silence.
i have only ever
kissed him with my eyes:
he is a memory, a ghost of
empathy i once misplaced.
someone whose
body heat i've
only felt beside
a raging end-of
-summer fire.
but once the song passes,
there's nothing left.
for some reason
i still think of him.
YOU ARE READING
soft light
Poesíai just want to feel okay again. poems written circa 2017-2020. what a wacky time to exist. if a lot of these seem unhinged it's probably because most of them were written while i was in a very abusive relationship. tw for occasional themes of addict...
