- Lena Drake
Precise Between
Updated: Jun 23
And once you’ve finished
drying yourself out, take
stock of what truths
you find yourself shouting
to strangers in bathrooms
hoping that someone
will tell you you’re real.
Maybe the end has already
come; dishonesty nothing
more than aftershocks.
I won’t feel guilty for loving
I won’t feel guilty for loving
I won’t feel guilty for loving
even after they’ve left.
We know someone was here
because we miss them when
they’re gone. Where do all
the missed ones go? Can they
see our regrets wafting towards
the skies, shame as smog and
undeniable rancor.
The only stench I can stand
is self-denial, it’s resourcefulness
never ceases to amaze. Just
as you made me wonder if all
that’s meant to be is the end.
I won’t wish you were here
I’ll wish I was there, off in the
ether, the precise between,
the place where people like you
go because none of us are ready
to let go. Did you think of me
more or less before you died?
Did I ever tell you I love you?
Can you hear me if I say it now?