Today
I buried my heart.
Do you see it?
Beneath the earth—
Deeper
than words could ever reach.

Beneath my toes,
beneath my skin,
where silence fractures
and ghosts
begin to whisper your name.

My love rests
in a darker room.
Do you smell it?
A coffin soaked
in soft perfume.
She sleeps in soil—
blind, lost,
a relic
of gentler costs.

I nearly leapt
right from my skin
to witness
the ruin she was left in:

Twisted dry,
a flower undone,
cradled in heartbreak’s
faint perfume.

The love I held—
fierce as flame—
now tangles
in the words
we never spoke:

Half-spoken sentences,
tones ignored,
all left bleeding,
unexplored.

She was my best friend,
raw and true.
Do you feel it?
Now I bleed
where once she grew.

Yet still
I clutch her near my core—
a ghost
in flesh.

And if you look closely,
if you reach carefully—
you’ll see:
I am still here.
Still trembling,
still burning,
forevermore.