Closed Eyes Still See

Another late evening,

another crushed can,

another night spent

not knowing where I am.

-

Closed eyes still see, here.

-

I see the cracks,

I see the torn photographs,

I see the osmosis

bringing the vitriol

back to where I’d hidden,

searching for escape.

-

I see your mask

placed with care on the bedside

plugged in, and charging

a dim blue light

where your forehead would be.

-

I left myself in your room

and can’t trace my footsteps.

-

I see the smoke,

my handwritten notes

all set ablaze

and intentionally forgotten.

-

My ghost will remain,

unwanted but present,

a stain on your favourite shirt

after a thousand washes.

-

I did my best to disappear,

but these clumsy fingertips

remain on the furniture regardless.

-

The blood on my hands

shed with water

after enough tries,

but your ghost tears up my room,

kills the flowers,

breaks the window

and invites it all in.