Remember me?

I'm the man
who stood by and watched
as your own Mother
your own Father
cut you out of their lives
and your own brother
told your husband he should have succeeded
instead of failing
to **** himself.

Remember me?

I'm the man
who pulled you out of closet
you would hide in
screaming, crying, wanting to
hurt yourself while
your own Mother
your own Father
your own sister
were deaf to your cries.

Remember me?

I'm the man who was there for
half a decade, learning to
care for you
bathe you
give you space
(Just don't lock the door, love.)
laid on your back
when the weight of me
was the only way you could
feel safe.

Remember me?

How quickly,
shamefully,
selfishly,
you forgot
on that day last June,
when you told me,
you were leaving.

I didn't forget you,
or that kiss I knew would be our last.
And I wish I could remember that
last look as you drove away,
but the image in my mind
is blurred,
just as it was on that day,
as the tears bent the light
from the face I loved,
as it drove away,
free of tears.

I'm only here,
waiting for you,
never coming through
my door again,
never looking in,
my eyes again,
never breathing near
my ear again,
never lips on
my flesh.

I'm only here,
waiting for you,
still.

If it were a million years from now,
you'd still be
in my mind
in my heart
on my skin

I thought.
I believed.
You were the one thing
I had faith in,
when I was a universal atheist.

I would have ridden into the dusty East
to fight Crusades in ****** tribute
to you.

All those years with you,
are like a crumbled castle
I walk through at times,
wanting
the walls rebuilt
the gates strong again
the flags no longer
dead on their poles,
tattered and charred.

But this place is a ghost now,
just like your presence,
in my chest.

The lips that met,
never touched. Or could she only
dream?

The sweat beading upon my brow,
as she was spread out like a
feast.

When certainty is unpronounceable,
and air beats harsh and stark,
can anyone not see me screaming,
at these never fading blister marks?

Well she lives, a life allowed
permitted apostrophes
clinging to the nerve endings
in my mind.

Where are you, suddenly,
a cry from the night.

I could bleed from these arms,
into my hands,
which once seemed so strong,
drown my prize
in nitrogen and scar tissue
and maybe then I'd be happy
to destroy myself
again.

If I had you in my hands,
petal,
cradled from the rot
guarded from the corruption
the world assails you with,
I would hold you firmly
and never let you go...

Never let you go.