Published June 4, 2022 by April Fox
I guess you could say it's all
there is one last everything

They aren't there, like he said, in the shadows with their
creepy spyglasses and
notes about my favorite things
They aren't anywhere, and if they were
I'd be blind to their existence like I was
when he was there
initially and now the image
is a double exposure

Clear and shaded in the foreground by the ghosts of things that were
And still might be and fear
is not a thing that I'll allow and
attachment is a thing that I avoid and
letting go has always been
the easiest part of life

The only things that ever felt like were forever
were the things that tried to take me out
and failed

The cracked ribs the empty spaces where the things that we don't talk about
should have been
The endless fucking bouts of crippling anxiety when the only thing that I knew
was uncertainty and he asks me, this one, now

If you don't tell me
how will I know?

And I might have said, or only thought
(my head last night was hazy from the whiskey and the day)
In ten years, if you're still around, I might

I won't.

Sitting here like nothing, autopilot hair bleach laundry pasta salad lather rinse repeat I am balanced on the edge

Of moving forward

Tasting the blood on my tongue

From staying still.

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