I’ve washed all my sheets twice, but the scent of your cologne is still stuck to my nose like blood.
A wooden chest burns a hole in my walls and floor and heart,
Its contents apparent even through the musty, splintered shell.
A grit of my teeth and a burn in my eyes will not rid the residue you left
When you first entered my life
And when you first left.
Like burns from a fire that blazed too hot, too close
I am smarting and now nothing more than a pile of overstepped ashes.
I am so tired.
Every night feels like a blink,
everyday feels like an eternity wrapped in a paradox.
Every time I see you it is like the universe is closing in on me,
Wrapping me in the despair of dying stars
And the solitude of the cold beings that used to orbit them.
I feel like a lifeless planet that cannot seem to find its way
now that its sole light and guide has fizzled out and become one
with the bleakness that is nothing.
Air cannot seem to sustain my aching lungs
And my voice cannot seem to contain every wail of warmth lost
And every cry of a heart slain in the name of finding oneself.
You say everyone must be selfish in order to find who they really are inside.
I am not selfish.
I suppose you are.
I supposed you are why the ocean is sucked from the beach.
I suppose you are why the light is drained from the sky.
I suppose you are the reason why my strength will grow thin and my will to fight will be worn down
Until it is a tiny insignificant grain of sand in an enormous
Turbulent storm of white bitterness and blue sorrow.
I suppose you are why every girl with a heart as her being will not receive the same kind of treatment.
I will never be as whole as I was in the space of time before I met you and before I knew you
And before I let you worm your way into supporting my bones and weary head.
I feel surreal, nonhuman.
I am the hair ties found in your bed, the candy in your pillowcases and sheets.
I am a neon green rubber duck and a silver ring that barely fits your little finger.
I am soft fur and glass eyes, and fake roses with plastic stems.
I am sickly sweet chocolates and I am sour smoke and a custom flame.
I am a blue tie dye shirt from labors past.
I am your favorite band with your least favorite songs.
I will never be whole, not with the way you took every part of me
And turned what you didn’t want into a heap of bones and exhaustion.
I suppose you are just fine in these moments of seclusion,
What with your blurred vision and eternal cough.
You are just fine without me and I am glad.
I would never wish this kind of ache on anyone ever.
Not the most evil of humans.
Not on you.
The pain will be gone someday
When time has smoothed over my wounds.
In that space of time, I will grow stronger.
I will grow taller.
I will cut off all my hair
And fight each day with a resolve found only in the blazing recesses of a wildfire.
And someday, I will love myself,
Filling up all the empty space that you failed to conquer.
I will never be the same, that’s true.
After you buried me so thoroughly,
I will arise only stronger.
I don’t know where you are right now.
But I hope that wherever you are,
You remember that I love you
And that I will never love you again.