Flimsy

Photo by Callie Gibson on Unsplash

I feel empty enough for the job,
to remind you of your worst mistakes
if you need somewhere to aim the projector.

I move around quietly, the second I make noise
they turn and forget
what is misunderstood does not mean danger.

The cruelty of silence and dismissal,
things we cannot come back from,
misdeeds that linger while we languish —
why do you marinate in unflushed water?

Consider it’s not me who haunts you;
this apparition has firm legs.
Look in the mirror and see if —
maybe after all —

it’s you who is disappearing.