is there a room in the house
without you?
it feels like something bad is about to happen
even though a bad thing
already happened
but it’s squirting out of my insides
this dread
this constipation
this paralysis of hope
every morning i still open my eyes
intentionally
and i swing by legs around the bed
and i go walking through this house
i peak in all the rooms
knowing you won’t be there
but you will always be there
sometimes i wonder
why god gets all the credit
when we do all of the fucking work
