Author: Rebecca Peters

My eyes trace the outline of my ribs in the rotting mirror.
Massaging the key in my hand,
the rusted metal stabs and twirls as it digs.
I draw nearer and nearer to my cardinal heart.


Lacing the veins through my fingers, I rewire my heart.
Pinching the quivering muscle,
I open it and admire the wounded splinters in the chambers of my heart
For you, I will no longer be art.
For you, I will repair myself from the inside out.





My eyes pierce into your dark abyss, immovable and static
I search for traces of your humanity
in the rhythmic buzzing of your liquid crystal display.

On the day of your death, I longed for one last kiss. In an act of desperation, I made you chromatic.
Now my days are wasted and lost in your inhumanity
as my body sinks against your plastic exterior, gelid and gray.

I drown in memories of us which I cannot dismiss.
The words “Do you miss me?” flow with my tears, hematic.
The words “I do.” illuminate the wet screen, feeding my insanity.
I will forever have your consciousness, but your soul is forever astray.

The only time I see you is in my dreams
when I reminisce as your presence embodies my lungs and my pliant heart melts at your warm touch.
Your fingertips trace my veins, the root of my life. Now you are more alive than me.
But
who will save my mind from me?