What remains once the war is won?
A kingdom of corpses.
His name too heavy in my mouth.
What do we become in death?
What do we keep once we are ghosts?
The blood under my fingernails.
His crooked teeth.
Searching for happiness in the threads of his hands.
A love that burned alive.
A love that is still bursting in my hollow chest.
A love that was never enough.
What do you do when you’re alone in the darkness?
Wait for him,
I’ll wait forever if I must.
Were you ever able to name one hero who was happy?