how do you lose everybody
you've ever loved (and who
has ever loved you back) —

         it's simple

first, think of a house. you 
hold the key & your heart is
the door. put the key in,

feel
how heavy the weight of it
is, how warm the handle is
against your skin. 

now lock it.

lose the key. carry it around
with you. drop it, by accident
or purpose. don't pick it up.
forget about it. it's gone now

and you'll never get it back
(you won't want to)

now close the blinds. don't
let any light in. don't even
turn on the tv. quiet is good.
it gives your thoughts enough

space to be louder. louder than
the tap tap tap of the person
standing at your door. whatever
you do, don't let them in. 

if they do, by chance, manage
to creep their way into your home,
into your bed, zip your lips shut,

            and remember,
                      remember,
that your heart is locked. 

only let them see the worst
of you, the hurricane who could
upturn a mountain.

(it's all that's left anyway)

don't let them see the remains
of who you used to be.

don't forget that you're
not the only monster here. 
they are too. 

and you can't keep
looking under the bed.
only to scream
when you see what's there.

when they are  gone,
lie on the ground & close
your eyes. feel the dust
of the carpet seeping
into your skin.

            let it.
       feel it.

don't let it go. 

— nicole muldoon.