Poem -

where the wild things grow

where the wild things grow

Where the wild things grow-
 

"all good things, they say, must depart."

 

-there is a hole in my heart and it is purple. 

My chest, an empty, doveless cage. 

I hear them weeping in the distance-

only because the record is repeating backwards. 

 

Amid butterscotch clouds and whiskey-

they laugh. 

Strutting through the open door once more...

...but the image is greying distortion. 

 

Beautiful one-

When you died, a part of me did too.

 

I remember you coming through the pit of my stomach walls-

arising from the ashes of 90's cassette tapes. 

Caped in vibrations, 

like a far-off whale song. 

 

-now it is you who listens from the other side. 

The universe is yours. 

Striking a match upon the grasp of every fallen star.

 

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