Yesterday, I watched
the leaves fall and rot by the paths we
used to walk; I remember the sickly
grey ghosts that haunted the backgrounds
of the pictures you used to give me and
how my eyelashes were violet from
bloodstained lies and blue
paint on your hands.
Yesterday, your hummingbird heart needed
three extra beats for every teardrop you
cried in the dead of night, I used to lie
on your chest and hear trains running
past at the speed of light instead of
fragile wing-flaps that I could cup
in my fingers.
Yesterday, the sun failed to show
his head and hung his head in silver
mist, covering his eyes with the clouds.
The birds neglected to sing and
our willows forgot to weep for
us as you turned the world on its
head; rolling sideways like a marble
escaped from its track.
Yesterday, i realised you would
not live to see tomorrow.
(today, my soul is withering in my empty chest,
robbed of any value.)