The Stones Cry Out

It’s the cavernous rumbling in my stomach that tells me you’re coming home
To our silence
Words bubbling to the surface, then bursting upon our walls like toxicant gas
These days, I’m only happy when I’m medicated, and even then, only just so
Don’t come to me wanting to press my hand
While your hair smells like him and your lips are still frozen around his name
If I’m gone then I’m gone away, and my ghost will have no home to haunt
I realize how I am better than this tumult, better than you
Better than love
So I’m walking away and taking nothing with me

but the tumor that’s been gnawing away inside my gut with the sound of
your trembling hand on the doorknob,
your lasting impression in the bed
and the exhaustion in your eyes
After a temulent night spent forgetting me, I forget myself