The Art of Combustion

And here goes the list of things I never said,

The thoughts I broke into pieces,

With my bare hands:

I crushed everything I ever meant to tell you into letters and syllables,

into a sort of nothingness, you could never know unless I told you,

Which I won’t

I like to drink merlot and pretend I’m forgetting you,

(I’m just drunk)

I lay on my floor and stretch my hands towards the ceiling,

I open and close the gaps between my fingers,

Allowing light to enter,

Closing it off again,

I imagine what you’d look like in their grip.

I’m forgetting you

I’m forgetting you

I’m forgetting you

Now I’m closing my eyes,

Envisioning myself as a girl,

She tries to tell me something but then I remember:

Everything I never said,

It floods her out,

Drowns her quiet,

Something like bumper to bumper traffic

Something like nowhere to go after the waiting

the blood of the body,

the letters of the literature,

I’m picking up the pieces,

the pools,

The syllables,

The letters,

The forgotten,

(never said)

(never known)

(never applauded)

‘O’s and ‘Q’s,

Swirl on my fingers,

Call it an engagement,

A noose

I think my radiance was a light at the end of a tunnel that never seemed to end for you,

Running in place,

For what?

Toward something, you could see but could not touch,

Could not embody.

How could I blame you?

I still ask myself why I do

I stood at the end of that tunnel for too long,

It was nobody's fault,

Merely independent variables in a science experiment,

Studying what it is to combust and be forgotten

I came to learn,

Stars are only wished on after they fall to the darkness,

When they abandon ships at night and lovers on the hoods of their car,

And here I am wishing on corpses to forget you

(I’m forgetting you)

(I swear)

It’s a tragedy really,

Clapping for the sky,

When the reality is it dims its shine to make space for more,

And we take notes on martyrs like we all must shrink to be loved,

Wish to be noticed,

As if it’s not only one side of the story,

As if the vastness of the sky ever shrunk or seized for a dead star,

For us

But you could not see me unless simplified,

Unless I burned as dim of a hue as them,

Becoming one of those corpses we wish on,

One that sailors and lovers look for but will never find 

Radiance can be manipulated, 

Used,

As a distraction rather than a teacher,

That’s why I was a Sun and within your squint, you saw a disco ball,

So bright,

So blinding,

It's almost like I’m not even there,

Almost better to not even look,

That’s why you felt me with your eyes closed,

Because touching my body is not a sin if God created the sun that blinds you,

The disco ball,

The lost girl

No wonder you told me I felt like heaven,

And no wonder you couldn't stay,

Because I burned you every time you got too close,

And this is the part where I burn the letters and syllables too,

Severing my guilt from these things I’ve never said,

Because

I’m forgetting you