this is a poem to say that the poems
aren’t writing themselves these days. 
i take paranoia as a lover. i swallow
every mouthful twice to keep from choking.
i lock myself out of the house because 
if i can’t get inside, nobody else can. 

i keep dreaming about half-dead things 
and chasing after ghosts that only exist 
in my head, turn my body into a
haunted space instead of a home for these
ribs / lungs / hearts that beat faster
than they should. this is a poem to say 
that i think your heart is inside me. this
is a poem to say that i don’t want your heart
anymore. 

yesterday i deleted your number
and left my keys at home -
i want to leave the door to the house
open.