I understand where you're coming from, so I'll leave you alone.
But that doesn't mean that I can't hope, you're still reading my poems.
And maybe feeling a little at home.
And baby I know that you won't.
But I can still hope, you know where I'm coming from.
That this wasn't how,
This was supposed to go.

A message from my balding scalp and dying follicles. Just acting out as testaments, of how I had tried too hard. Of how I had tried too hard to figure out all the wrong things. And how I had went all out with them, and then went all out, without. And so now, with all this done, I am all out of everything. Out of my mind, out of control, out.. Of you. Out of the love I was so sure would hold so true. The love I was so, so sure had held.. So, so true... So now complacency and naïveté has brought ME, Out of a body which was once a temple.. MY temple. My hiding place and holy sight. My prayers going forwards towards a brighter future, where everything worked out with the moonlight and with our cosmically charged super stars aligned, and it all worked out with such giggles and bright skies. Bright skies all to spite the moonlight for being a nighttime thing... And we were to be so sweetly enveloped; in figuring it all out, and everything.

His stump finger nails traced your shoulder blades, and you couldn't feel that sensation anymore; he chewed it away. And he chewed it away unknowingly, but truly, he should have known... Should have known he was gnawing at you every time he was anxious, or angry, or wouldn't listen or COULDN'T UNDERSTAND. Every time he. Just wasn't. THERE... He just wasn't there anymore...He chewed himself away... He chewed and chewed until there were only smears of blood and pus, and nothing left to reflect on but a hang nail. A hang nail, now, just waiting awhile longer to grow a short length longer so something, SOMEONE... or anything... Could manage to clip it. Tear It. RIP. IT. OUT. As quickly as you could, as quickly, as a band aid. One, that turned out to be such a temporary solution, the irony being he was the stepping stone he had once thought you were, the irony being you were the whole pond, the one you had once thought he was... maybe... So Kicking, and screaming... Yeah, maybe. but that hang nail will be out and that hang nail will be healing. That hang nail will go away, so YOU. One made of such goddesses fire, who forges worlds with such fire like lies, but with such a body and soul to behold. You, who left a love which had left him so inspired; will be okay, and YOU will be alright... Because when his stump fingers traced your body, the only trail that he left behind was that of two beings, who were soaked in blood, with a love gone, a love un-stoked. You will be okay because the only thing you had left to feel, was something that once was, and the only feeling that's left of this whole ordeal seems to be... Something, is so, so, far away... A feeling, feeling much like someone screaming, "What, used to be?.."