Given enough time, she says, are all stories not ghost stories?
-	Steven Duong 

Still night in my body
I am sleeping under the weight of all I do not deserve
I was afraid of memory
Killer of want 
The way being and begin are anagrams of the other
I am always worrying about the prettiness of things 
A certain hunger about you
I am afraid of memory
You who I commit to memory
In the end there was nothing but meaning 
The endpoint of desire 
As well as what lay on the other side of forgiveness 
I want to write my whole life into this poem
I leave as little behind as possible 
I have everything to remember 
When you only came home to me when you were hurting
Then Love was not adornment 
It felt like giving 
Everything soft and easy
And when I waited for nothing I loved my loneliness 
And when I loved nothing I loved my loneliness

About the Author:

Anoushka Kumar (she/her) is a student and writer from India, with work forthcoming or published in Poetry Northwest, DIALOGIST, and elsewhere. She likes wood-panelled flooring and Phoebe Bridgers. 

*Feature image by Syarafina Yusof on Unsplash