Happy birthday, Mom

The time you realized you were breathing on your own Continue reading

Past Tense

When crying keeps you up at night
and you can’t find your way home.

Sheets stained with nights you thought meant more,
like the words he spoke,
the flower he picked for you,
now dried out in your car –
You so carefully placed
each petal in a tiny birdcage,
hanging from the rearview;
You wanted to keep them
safe,
so delicate, fragile
inside the cage
like the one that holds your heart
(you wanted to keep it safe).

It used to make you smile
and now it makes your insides turn
faster than you used to
when you ran
from this very feeling,
heart more sour
than the stale taste of Italian pastry
left clinging to the ribbon ‘round your wrist
the one you chose to keep
there, it used to remind you
there was something
safe
for you in this world
and it was him
and it was just that,
was.

EJZ 08.28.2015