Inspired by “Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart” - Mitski
I’m running out of space in my backyard.
Looking out, it’s a sea of earthy mounds; The bodies of those I’ve buried in my memory.
I hate the feeling of dirt under my fingernails.
Marked an unclean, I track it in with my shoes
Into every new room I try to enter.
I wonder if I should plant flowers. The plain dirt graves are unpleasant But that’s how I want everyone to see them.
I know what I would plant on each one, though.
The gardens I helped each of them grow Linger in the back of my mind.
That’s what they’d want. Their memories topped with final sweetness;
The potential we never cultivated.
I sense that I’m a hypocrite. I’d want my blossoming heart to be remembered,
But I’ve been choking on dirt for a while now.