an empty house like sour grapes
our fortress
we sit side by side on the porch
make watercolors out of pain

told, love
nothing good comes from being gone
we are sick
but let’s send the demons off
evict the passengers stuck to our skin

i feel it all
but we gotta stop remembering a room that isn’t there
like muscle memory
like a god missing mount olympus
did you read the stories?
there’s a reason we call it a “greek tragedy”

and if after all
the medicine doesn’t work
we still have music and words
brush strokes on canvases
and screaming poets
and the woods with trees that say hello

we’ll still have our alternate reality
with our own soundtrack
the home we made
past present future
full circle




Julia M. is a student of graphic design and poet from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. She loves words and art, drinks too much coffee, and spends too much time on Twitter. You can find her screaming about music/art/poetry there @in_consistent or on her Tumblr @popcandy.

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