was there ever a chance,
or was I just not listening
then Sunday,
drunken confessions
your sister wiped my tears
and told us to marry,
the bed we made—
those moments
that felt like the world
shifting in our favor.

the unspoken love,
the taboo
that creates life
in tiny rooms.
like when I was twenty.
it felt the same.
not always flowers
but piss and tears.

it’s the other side calling—
not death,
but life.
its voice louder
the heavens
breaking through
in piercing,
frightening choir

were we lost
or hearing bells
together
the moments
you told me
to let go.

I die not knowing
how you feel
or where you sleep
I’ve written a thousand stories
in my head

-

because you didn’t want to carry me
into the new year