vacant 

The car parked abruptly. 
Lungs, ached with pain. 
I miss you ugly 
As the sun came to an end,

Embrace my figure one last time
with fingers

curled into my hair; 

the scent of despair. 
​I want this to be a crime
To claim and testify, 

with broken, lifeless, fingers—

they wrapped my heart 
pulling it from its cage

and at last, it laid at the 

bottom of this car.

k.m.