Before, something in me was small,
a quiet library sush.
Soul, but under snow.
Mutilated shades of mourning lows.
A dance, a fragile golden girl in death’s arms.
But this is after.
This is after and it feels full of sentiment.
Bottom lip greedy now for all you did to make the laughter.
This is after and I’m not someone borrowed, forgiveness hollowed.
Deep damnation to take another breath because I might remember how to be awake with a little more peace.
My soul answers the dizzy brink of echoes: the room full of darkness is closed for at least
a little while now.
After. I learn the worlds between bodies, you and me alone.
Chest full of honey-comb.
To find my days, one thing, one phrase, I’ll be the one that stays.
After, and my head no longer going against its law; of my heart.
My life, pulled apart
but with you.
6/30 prompt— Write about something that has changed. Contrast before and after