left lung

the orchid wasn’t enough

but the dirt was

for with it

i buried you among

the dry roots

and the finger painting

that could’ve been

if could had been

*

i am not looking

for anything more

than the ability

to not look anymore

*

there’s a disguise

i still wear

and have forgotten how

to take off

and most days

i forget that i put it on

so i could see what i

looked like

if i didn’t look like

what i see

*

touch me

so you feel

what i miss