i long to gather these bones
though i am certain the
stench of life lingers in the marrow
down to the hollow
to the very core
in how i could have ever loved you
how you could have ever had more
and still you do.
i long to place the memories
in a box, in a grave
to never see them again
but still malignant, they're saved.
is this a disgrace, dishonesty
to be so driven
mad
at the wonder, have you looked for me
do you look at me
to know the answer would cripple
the corpse that remains
what more should i suffer
at your hands?
i owe you nothing, and you deserve it less
and still i linger
this crack in my chest
you linger, the faint silt
on my everything.
i have so many answers
and just one question to ask
but i shake, and stare
and try to find what was,
undeniably, once mine.
and now that i know
how complete the destruction has been
i'm left for the wondering
what i've left within.