i dig around my belongings for things that might make sense but broken bones and ashes are all i seem to find. it’s funny really, because you always said my pockets rattled a lot, made you want to dig for treasure. i do have treasure, but it’s not the emeralds and gold you want. i carry ghosts of my past self, i’m haunted by days of the old and i don’t know how to escape the clutches of the dragon who seems to always catch a hold of me, in my dreams.
i dig around in graves, hoping to find faded memories i killed long back but they’re gone. it’s almost like someone stole them, because the roses and wine i buried with them, are still there. i always wished they’d find better homes but this wasn’t what i meant. they were mine to mourn, like they were mine to kill. but amma says, once someone dies, their memories slowly crumble to dust and are blown with the winds to faraway lands, until they’re forgotten.
i dig around my heart, in the deepest corners i pushed your essence into. and it’s there. faded, rusty because i’ve been trying to forget you for millennia now, so the laughs are pitchy and smiles wonky. because amma also used to say, dead people forgotten by the earth and wind and fire are remembered for eternity in the hearts of those who loved them.
i dig around my mouth trying to find words to fill the emptiness your death left behind. you used to say how you’d rather be dead than face the day when i don’t have words to pour onto paper. i try to move on without you and poetry, but i’ve forgotten what i used to be like. i have boxes of stuff i should give away, things you loved and things we made. i don’t have much of myself left any more, so these boxes are here to stay.
i’ve got empty rooms in the attic i need to rent. maybe i’ll house you there, untill i know how to come back home again.
in search of venus 