Olivia Bennett
The world keeps turning the key in my chest
Locking up my heart like a stray cat, feral and wild-eyed
Do I remember who I was before my world began to burn?
Some days I’m not sure I want to
You leave your chocolate-stained lips all around my room
Like violets and sunflowers scattered by the wind
Yet the smoke makes my hair stink of memories
And I can’t seem to kick this aching, sticky on my skin
My fingers trace the outlines of every photograph
As the colors paint the sky red
The days and nights bleed together
Like the ink I can’t seem to make right
I often wonder if I stacked all my wishes up
Would they finally reach the stars?
Or will this chasm swallow me whole?
Like the remnants of God’s creation, ancient and buried
Unholy leftovers, maybe that’s what we are
Or are our lives made of these sacred moments?
A patchwork quilt of isolation and connection
Or are we stacked wishes, just one on top of the other?