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there are vestiges of you
haunting the quiet thronerooms
of my palisade chest. you ghost
through stone-pillar ribs and
phase past decrepit murals, i painted
my insides with hieroglyphs that
all mean missing you.

chandelier jellyfish swim, trailing
memories of our hands tangled in
ivory moonbeams, of our hands
ten fingers away from forever, our
hands on opposite sides of the table,
you told me i couldn't hold the fragile
pieces of you anymore as if i was the one
who broke you.

your name means to defend and here
you are crumbling and you couldn't
shield me from your shortcomings
and i have kept fragments of you in
this ruined chest as if it will make a
difference, as if i can put you back together
but i am watching you tear yourself asunder
on distant shores; we sit with our hands
apart, we are ten fingers away from farewell.

there are remnants of your past
floating between my lungs where
birds mourn and whales sing and
your silent confessions, your unspoken
i love yous echo in my heartbeat;
i carved you a palace and all you can
do is haunt it, can never sit on the
throne you fall through.

my sweet vessel, she left you like a
jack-o-lantern in november,
walked away with the saints and
now i dream of will o wisps kissing,
of submerged black oceans and a
great atlantis palladium where i once
imagined forever, forever.

(how can you stop loving something
that has embedded itself into your
skin and cannot help but play your
heartstrings the right-wrong way?
how do you put the ghosts in your
heart to rest when it's you that
can't let go?)