urn/body | oleander/house | a poem

take me up to my room,

body that I trust so much

too much

I’ve never let anyone else into my room ever since


I believe that he died but he kept on living in his past

that was shared by the living


yes, he perished, but he was still in that house


the house that felt like home, the house that haunts me still


I never felt like I was the only one in a room

but the only one that could be seen


p e r c e i v e




his whole world collapsed

and his urn contained him


upon his death

I became a different person altogether


saw the cracks in your person

the cracks cannot change

the person cannot change

I need to adapt to the cracks

I need to contort my behaviour

unseen, unheard, disappear

until the cracks ask for me

and intend to devour me

the cracks grew

and I shrank

open mouth



he’s still in that house

reliving death

My own drawing © Laura Gentile 2021 | Instagram: @melpomenepaintings

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