lost
Updated: Mar 6, 2022
sometimes,
when it’s cold enough
that the wind bites me,
i wish i could give all the parts of myself away.
the parts that
smell of ash in the winter,
taste like drip in my throat,
look like rapture in my eyes,
feel like loss of my partner,
my family,
myself.
these sensories pollute me
like cigarette smoke in my lungs–
(parliaments,
to be exact)
forgive me father,
i thought you left me,
so i have sinned.