Remission

I was ok, things had slowed down
I got the sense you disagreed
tap. tap tap
every day, I’d ask what the knocks
against my sternum were—
who exactly they were meant to serve

I thought maybe:
it was some morse code summoning
the ghosts of good things past,
maybe they got buried
a few layers beneath

But it was always a shake of your head,
followed by an untraceable expression:
“No.”

I waited in the balance

“Just checking how the hole is healing”
Big pause
tap. tap.

“Still sounds little hollow.”

Mackenzie Moore is a writer and illustrator based in Los Angeles who currently writes for scripted narrative podcasting. Her CNF and poems can be found in X-RAY, Hobart, Redivider, and Rejection Lit — she is an incoming residential writer for the Kenyon Review's 2022 Nonfiction Workshop.