Papercuts - Ari Augustine

There's a place in my bones where

I've buried you, a shallow grave

between yesterday and today

that will never overgrow with flowers.

There's silence trapped behind my teeth

because wounding you with sharp words

would mean wounding me.

And I'm so weary from breaking.

I feel every fissure,

every crack you pried open,

like a rusty door that won't fully shut.

No matter how carefully you tread,

the staircase moans a warning.

Remember. Remember. Remember.

Do you know how badly

I've wished that only goodness

was born from these ruins?

Ari Augustine (pen name) is a writer of adult SFF, CNF essays, and poetry. When she isn't lost between the pages of a good book or inkstained with new story ideas, she can be found in a gaming forum, blogging at Bookish Valhalla, haunting the nearest museum, or at her Tennessee home, where she lives with her husband and their feline hellion, Mori. She holds a BA in English Lit from the University of Washington.

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