I’m trying to block you out
Playing choirs in my head
Screaming orchestras and
Indie punk bands howling their hearts from their throats
Soaring cacophonies of sound breeding silence
And I am rubbing at your pencil-lead edges
Smudging and fading you away
Scrubbing with bleach and wiping away the evidence
And I am furiously imagining sand flowing through my hands or
Dead leaves crinkling and self-destructing between my knuckles
Concrete pounding beneath my callused feet and gravel stuck between my toes
Salt-water suspending breath and hair and suffocating my skin
Anything to not see you hear you feel you
Telling me everything’s going to be okay.

It’s not.