Six feet and three inches of empty vessel
The one I stored temporary longings,
And passionate sexual encounters in.
Today I made my way through the webs of veins and arteries
To hang up those moments of sunset walks and nights spent by a television set.
I cleared off a shelf in the place on your shoulders where I used to kiss you.
And like a book I read once, and would never read again,
I left those kisses and the memory of your disjointed shoulder there to collect dust.
In this empty vessel, in the place where blue eyes shone
I would try and forget the glistening of tears on their surface,
And the way they told me ‘I love you’ in deafening silence.
Instead of objects of desire,
They’re left now as storage for thoughts of frustrations and I miss you’s.
This empty vessel
The one, whose parts I used to know so well
Will be nothing but a coat rack for the sinking feeling in my chest
Its fingers will hold on to the sounds of un-tuned guitar strings and songs we’ll soon forget
Because I have no room for those in my hands anymore.
Six feet and three inches
Will there be enough room for those hopeful wishes of years we’ll never spend together,
And the way you scrunch your nose when you laugh.
Will there be enough space for the feeling of our goodbyes,
And our favorite books?
Will you resent me, you empty vessel, when I fill the space where blood and oxygen flow,
With the things I don’t want to remember anymore?
Dear empty vessel
Though you walk, and talk, and have no room for those songs or tearful goodbyes
In place between your lungs,
I will store the feeling of your embrace and the way we fell asleep anyway.
Because they sting when I keep them in my chest.
And now, after one too many moments spent without you,
You are now a cluttered mess.
A closet, whose door I will shut
And only open on days when I run out of space once again.
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