A Breakup Lingers

his voice, rust, tumbling from his barren

vocal cords     a burnt sunrise flaking

despair, debris. a morning made for

mourning all the future slipping

past his cracked hands. his body

rasps against the air holding him

the same way he grew friction

like lilac fields between our

bones. i leave like ether, i leave

the same way i cry

alone and silent. find me crying

find me dead. somedays i

see rust on my balcony.

steel wool, pressure,

and a clock ticking effortlessly

forwards, reminds me

rust and my past are one

in the same, perpetually

surfacing, perpetually

i friction them back to the earth.