by Kara Emily Krantz
You seem to have misplaced my memory.
Absently tucking me between layers of moss,
you watch as the moisture saturates me.
I am a sponge, soaking up your sighs, pregnant with your always-temporary presence.
You misplace your intentions. One moment fully pulsating with possibility,
the next sobbing upon my lap. Hands reaching over, pulling my hair, grasping the seat-belt
as tears fall upon my dress.
Who are you, my wild broken boy? I curl my fingers through your hair
and feel nothing. You have taken all I had to give.
You have emptied me. I have been ravaged.
I am broken by your promises and numb to your eyes, shining with dew.
Why do you stare, so guileless and strong, and promise me the world?
You are as transient as the salty sea; I taste you on my lips
but you are soon washed away with the softest of kisses, an absent-minded touch. You are gone.
You seem to have misplaced me.
Traveling deep into the wilderness,
I can no longer seek you.
I can no longer wait for you.
You have misplaced all these memories, broken all the beauty.
You have ravaged my heart.
I seek you in the quiet moments, but my wild broken boy
you are gone.