365 Poems/212 Scrawny Heart (Rough First Draft)

Scrawny Heart

How scrawny my heart has become

since you left.


I crossed out all the promises we made,

then burnt the notebook we wrote them in

and spat on the ashes.


Now, I regret it.


I hope you come home tonight,

but really I know you won’t.


I remember when you first

wrapped your bony knees

between my calves,


polished my spirit with kisses

until it sparkled like snow.


All I notice now is how

the whitlows on my finger ends

hurt when I break into an orange.


I remember when we lit crumbling

incense, and you fucked me on

the polished kitchen window sill.


Outside, birds bathed in sun warm

water, and watched us.

You said I coloured you in.


Mum keeps my phone busy,

telling me I’ll be ready to take

a jump back into life

again tomorrow.


I reply

a mournful echo

so she’ll leave me alone.


On a normal day, you would

hold the bulk of the sky

in your face, and I didn’t want

to lose you, not then,

not ever.


Every day when I’d see

your sleeping face,

the sails of my heart opened.


I still can’t take my eyes off you,

even though I haven’t touched

your skin in months.