gazing at the stars above
the shadows who's names were left alone
The cold breeze intertwined between my skin
standing lonely with a room full of sin
thinking about things to become
overwhelming thoughts in my head
feeling as if we were on two different beds
wanting you to cuddle me tight
wanting you to kiss me good night
is this the end
or do you consider this a fight

I am so sorry
that you have had to adapt to your name being "woman"
I am so sorry
that your pleas for help,
are referred to as *******
I am so sorry
that you learned to laugh it off
in the evening after he raised his voice at you
I am so sorry
that you are reminded daily that without him
you wouldn't last in this world
and I am even sorrier
that your son grew up
watching his father speak down to you
because now he treats me
the way you have been treated

After you left
                         I moved to a bigger house
as if I needed more space for my thoughts of you
as if I had the strength to
remember you

I measured the size of each room
and touched every corner
                of that tremendous place
                trying to guess how many moments
                how many of our early mornings
                                                       in embrace
                                                       it would take
                      to repel the shadows of emptiness
                      to turn the color and shade of my contempt

I opened each window
and closed my eyes, shutting out the
                wailing of a so tired heart
                holding the silence
                                              in all its weight

The forward violet thus did I chide:
“Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
If not from my love’s breath? The purple pride
Which on thy soft check for complexion dwells
In my love’s veins thou hast too grossly dyed.”
The lily I condemnèd for thy hand,
And buds of marjoram had stol’n thy hair;
The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
One blushing shame, another white despair;
A third, nor red, nor white, had stol’n of both,
And to his robbery had annexed thy breath,
But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth
A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
    More flowers I noted, yet I none could see,
    But sweet or colour it had stol’n from thee.

I forget about it most of the time.
My thoughts only linger in the daylight
where they can dissolve into a nothingness,
Whilst people around me remind of anything less
of what I really want the most.
I don’t want to be alone. I feel like a ghost…