and there was the sudden outpouring of cinders
creeping up my throat and wherever else they could escape
and smoldering still, I attempted to put them out myself
but too much salt will just feed this heat.

I remembered the taste of the tears I always tried to kiss away
and I can't tell what I miss about you
maybe it's more what I miss about myself.

I push the coals back and they slide, thick and painful
slowly down
to sit at the bottom of the growing pIt in my torso.
no amount of acquired muscle could hide
the blackness of it, now.

when I try to sleep without exhaustion threatening
I break.
all the pieces I haphazardly slapped back together
now fit more like sand.
small parts continuously tumbling downward
eventually they scatter
and I am a series of small broken bits again
until someone cups them in their hand
and guides it all back to where it should be
and that reminds me
I would be more fucking lost than ever
if it wasn't for tiah banks. jesus.

someone thank her for me.