OFF AXIS

Yesterday I realized that I missed you more than I ever 
loved you. Your red hoodie is molding in my closet, making 
friends with the moths, glittering with dust. Your stature is falling,
you don’t take up the space you think you do, you’re locked in a metal box, 
rusting with ignorance. You hold me from behind like The Kiss, our hands are shaking, my car is running, the wind is sleeping, the fire is dwindling. Myth can write us. 
When time is too much I stop myself from reaching, from looking past the ocean flooding your room, you sit pristine on your couch. Unbothered by the mess you created, 
I don’t wade, I sink. When the earth is heavier from your existence, I look towards the sun, begging to be burned one more time. I ask not for your apology but for your ears, please hear me: you’ve always had the key, you just never cared to use it. I’m Promothesus, eagle eating my liver, eating you. Your existence lies within mine, unaffected by blood by bile by bones. 
I wish to eject you. You’re so much nicer in memory. 
Venus has disappeared from the sky, a sister lost. Do stars fall if I stop wishing? 
Stained glass stained black. An upside down church. God isn’t here today.