it used to be a close-held lover,
breath twinned to mine,
whispering words of survival.
now it’s a barely recognizable ex,
framing all of my decisions with
hollow hooded question marks
whose sinuous curves bely
their sinister intentions
to blacken diamonds with doubts
until they’re back to coals again.
the square-jawed assurances
of my brave inner soldiers
now, they limp aimlessly around
raw rebel refuges
hidden behind an uncommitted rib
soon, my mirror will show nothing but
sighs, shadows +
sprung from fear-forged
iron maiden kamikaze armor.
i never liked labels or definition,
but now that they’re deprived of me
i find myself
buried in cliches
and somehow lacking