one.

we were silences stretched out,
lingering in the pitter-patter of muffled
heartbeats. we were broken glass
digging into too-fragile lungs, we were
the shaking of the nervous earth beneath
our feet. we were bitter unforgiveness and
the screams of the world around us, we were
empty spaces, we were

everything but beautiful.


two.

happiness is on vacation.


three.

life is a sidewalk, he told me. life is a sidewalk,
and regret and pain and tears are the cracks,

and sometimes, he tells me,
sometimes, you can't fill them.


four.

there's a shatter in the next room, a broken
breath, a shaking in the bones.

we're all broken,
darling, but some of us are empty, some of us
are just dead inside.

and nothing can wake us up anymore.


five.

death is not knocking on my door;
i'm knocking on his.