The Last Empty Room

Some days I reread all the vows I wrote 

A graveyard, a shrine, an ode to all the love I’ve lived 

I wonder if someday the words will ever see the light

If they’ll make it out of the dark in which I write 

A thousand loves, a thousand lives 

The heartbeat that strings across  

The space between doors 

The breath between deaths 

I’ve carved rooms inside my heart 

They sit hollow now

Nothing, but the music to adorn 

And still I don’t repaint

I leave up the old furniture 

Photographs, still pinned to the walls 

With hope that someday 

Someone will come along and tear the sheets off 

Repaper the walls 

And restring the lights 

Open the curtains

And fill the halls with new music 

A thousand memories, a thousand almosts 

A resounding heartbeat, drumming through the walls

Breath held, lungs open

I await the exhale 

I’ve carved rooms inside my heart

They sit vacant and patient 

A memoir of the past 

A waiting room for my last