There is still time

to forget me beautifully.

Tell yourself you imagined a miracle.

You did.

You cannot love me.

Hold on to that sentence.

Cut my name from the inside of your mouth.

Pull me back with your scream.

I will bargain like temptation.

The air will grow heavier.

Please, call it madness.

I’d welcome that.

I always offered myself as an angel.

You only noticed the wings.

Underneath,

I was always the demon.

You dragged me into hell.

But this has always been my home.
…

Or perhaps

it became

only after

you

forgot me.

—Beautifully.

Photo Francesca Woodman.