from my own unraveling,
was afraid you’d come undone with me.
I watched my own heart disintegrating
into pixels on the screen of a game.
You can go back but never past
the beginning where you still had
full health; a life to spare on love.
where there’s always an ending in sight,
the drop-off into the next level.
What’s in the in-between?
They say the magic happens here,
in the mess of day two,
when the monsters come out to eat.
With each step, I lost a little more
of me and you.
But, isn’t it funny that with the undoing
comes clarity, while the fabric hangs
looser and looser?
Falling apart and liberation
are two sides of the same coin.
So, I’m building a new house
with bricks found on the roadside;
the same pieces that nearly killed me
as they fell from the sky.
With my pen, I draw the outlines
of windows, the blueprints for forgiveness.
Inside, you’re a phone call away.
Inside, the blood flows a little easier;
the ink forms symbols of hope in space.
Featured image credit: Ray Che (https://www.flickr.com/photos/rayche1989/5203972988)