Ghost of Your Former Self by featured artist Jamila Clarke
Dying By Distance
This is how you die by distance:
There are sunflowers in the shape of your face
blooming in my mind and I can’t de-petal you.
You are an avalanche of flavours driving down
my throat, an 8.6 magnitude earthquake belting
out in my hands.
There is a small world in my chest that falls to
its knees at the slight breath of you. On the days
when I want to bite your neck, I chew on apples.
On the days when I want to swallow you whole,
I eat my fist.
Heartache is the stain that cannot be burnt from
This is how you die by distance. In eating memories
whole and licking your fingers when you’re done.
Where all the ghosts make beds out of your teeth.
Some memories are ugly like spinach. Others are
sweet like bonfires in the throat.