Make my heart explode all over this bed so my skin and bits of ribs and lungs and blood cover the sheets. Then you’ll see how nothing was inside me from the start, so there was nothing to be lost after all. I must be a black hole the way light keeps coming toward me like it can’t bear to stay away. I miss that spark that lit me up, back when I felt like more than stardust floating helplessly through space. What is this place, where hope can’t hang around and there’s no air to breathe?
First published in Meniscus Literary Journal.
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