Let's keep the demons at bay
by lighting matches and burning effigies;
We watch ourselves aflame.

A fine mess we make.

Our hands are an island,
and your heart is beating over the sound
of blood rushing in my ears.

The pyres are laden with our sighs.
Heavy lightness sprung from ashes
and our paper apologies.

There is too much we left unsaid
in the drawers and cabinets of your childhood.
They flicker and catch
as our eyes follow the words we could not speak,
focusing our attention on the syllables
as they crack and hiss.

I miss you already.
I hate it when you leave me for so long.