I feel it in my collarbone. Dull
aches of a soul never healed. The elements of me
that reflect you, subjugation soaked into my skin,
shame scratched into my skeleton.
I feel it in the back of my throat. The words dammed
under my tongue, unable to float. They drown
the confidence I gained
from leaving you.
I feel it in my shoulders. Your hands holding me
to you, quelling my worries. Then, a quaking
in your cold absence, when you
cast me aside.
I feel it in my ribs. They don’t sting
like they did when we shared our games, our giggles,
our agony. There’s a gash in that space now
when I see you don’t share the same grief.
Katelynn Jordan (she/her) is a university student currently completing her Bachelor of Arts in English Literature in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada. She loves her cat Fletcher, the way you can take words and create a whole new world, and coffee in any form.
Featured image by Anna Shvets on Pexels
