trace decay

there’s a trunk full of newspaper clippings
that explain far better than I ever could
the hollow madness that became of our lives
all the homes and the headlines we made
outside the courthouse in the rain
with gaps in my memory like missing teeth
and prison letters cluttering the mailbox

before the silence came and unspoke the truth
words caught like barbed wire in my throat
and i could not give you any more, i am
running in the opposite direction
with my trunk full of bad journalism
and memories drowning behind me
like passengers on a ship riddled with holes