332: Wax Museum

You melt

into a puddle of wax

and drip

down

between the floorboards.

I watch

and know

there's nothing I can do.

You smile

while you melt

and I feel utterly

alone.

Not for long,

I know,

because I'm melting

too,

and soon

my feelings won't matter,

but it's long enough

to see you leave

first.

And coming here,

we tied ourselves

to each other —

didn't we?

An unspoken promise

that we would keep each other

safe.

But you've melted

and I'm still here

for a little while longer.

Exposed.

Dripping.

You smiled

and I weep

as my body melts

and follows yours

to be reshaped

in the image

we didn't want.

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Written by: Katrine Hjulstad

Instagram: @katrinehjulstad

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Publisher's note: All poetry published with Eudaemonia Records has been viewed and commented on by our editors. Ultimately, however, we believe that it is the writer's decision to accept or reject any suggestions made by the editors, and therefore take no responsibility for the final product.