Poetry: Hollow Chest By Inca Stienhans

hollow chest

she kept her heart in a jar labeled “miscellaneous”
on the second shelf, behind expired batteries and a box of someone else’s photographs
no padding, no liquid,
just bone-dry and stiff
like it forgot how to be part of anything.

the label was handwritten, lowercase, peeling at the edges
like even that word didn’t want to stay.
she didn’t talk about it
not because it was painful,
but because you don’t mourn things
you put away on purpose.

i asked her once if it hurt,
walking around hollow-chested like that,
and she laughed like she’d heard the question before
in a dream she couldn’t wake from.
said no,

it only hurts when i try to remember
where i put the key.

 

 

 

 

 

Inca Stienhans is a writer based in Los Angeles, California. Her work has been featured in various literary journals.