I can't tell my dreams Apart from my nightmares Home or hell Was there a time when I was aware? Don't move Stay motionless and just Stare down the memory Don't come any closer Away right there Don't move Is there a way Is there a way to let go? Without forgiving somehow? Without forgetting the shape of the hole? Inside this place Escape is all we know Run away, condemn the memory Of what we call our homes All the ways we were failed Made invisible now As the sun descends Over the streets of small towns Is there something Inside me that needs this? I don't know Do I secretly deserve it? Is there a part of me That knows what happened? Why am I so sure I'm just dramatic? I can't feel Human souls, she thinks, are absences A hole torn into the being of every person Each a different shape Sometimes the edges line up With someone else's wound And briefly, there is the illusion Of the absence being filled in again Occasionally, the jagged corners Lock together so tightly that this illusion Can sustain itself for a very long time But ultimately, she knows The emptiness remains She walks her familiar street In the haze of early morning Keeping something secret inside her chest A tiny jewel, the size of an insect A quiet understanding That everything from here on out is unknown