School taught me that I was in drastic pain.
Faces taught me that I was missing mine.
Bodies conveyed to me that mine was not admirable.
That I cherished false idols, laying my body bare
Underneath their jaws and fingernails.
I watched her destroy her own skin throughout the years
When I loved her the most.
The blood that she watched drying
As if it would suddenly disappear on its own.
I heard her ignore her own name as she taught me
How to love.
She never used the word, she spoke a language foreign to herself.
I barely recovered from her death
And then you vanished as well.
So quickly, I wasn’t able to blink.
I still don’t comprehend what happened to you.
How you rode the wind for a second that still hurts my bones.
How you started to love what you feared the most.
How winds became your comfort zone.
You presented me with images that I convert to a language of love
And ghosts.
And she sits there still, observing her garden.
The whiteness of her hair, the laughter that I still hear.
How young you were, how old and misplaced you felt.
Did I know anything at all?
Will I ever?
Come close to you?
Now?
That I lost you to a valley.
What do your ashes mean?
What do your ashes mean?
What do your ashes mean?
Croque-Melpomene 