when all that remains is
open to interpretation,
that explains it —
the suffocation
is loneliness personified,
transmogrified into the anvil on my chest,
the last of my breath expressed
by the weight of everything i didn’t mention
when i might have had the chance.
because when all is forgotten,
what’s left of me?
bits and pieces collected by strangers
in the moments we connected,
folded into eternity
to be repurposed but never reassembled.