Portrait of My Lover in Grief
Hollie Hardy
on the 13th day I crawl 
into a sugar packet and wait 
for someone to find me 
a new body, a new career 
the blister on my motivation 
weeps like a childhood 
because it is 2am 
and we’re at a gas station
my heart weeps for the dead
everything dead 
was once living
we didn’t get these scars
from being quiet
we didn’t get this old
from being kind
we didn’t get this 
fire from being charred
like burnt sugar
we are punished
with violence we 
don’t understand 
we wait for courage 
weep tears of ash 
count brûléed bodies 
we can’t unsee
