Something Still Delicate

To take back an echo—
I may caution towards a notion impossible
Yet how do you breathe without sound?
For I hold a chest of memories
each tiny chaos and caution never lets me be…
I bury them each eve the sun goes down

My dreams rest in the arms of a grave
hopes and heartaches below—where is saved
this part of my heart in which something still delicate remains
seething yet comforted by slowly dying pains
This regretful air will not disappear; nor restore my name
to escape how it haunts taunts me with unfortunates and tragedies
still from the shadows I must take reposed and rarified leave—

…Perhaps on this night I can transpire with fantasy
reshape and then forsake it
breaking wide open this destructive doubt
leaving a hole in my soul so reverent
where lies, although I rise…something still delicate

Carrie Gilbert 2016

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