My stomach turns like
the violence in your eyes
spun around dizzy upped
lost in the love we have
for each other
when everything else
wants to destroy us.

Empty like your love for me
poured out from a broken vase
that you considered
throwing out.

Once a window came down over me
and I saw through it, there
in the distorted time signatures
changing to odd-numbers on even
seconds pass since
I watched you
walk out of the frame
and you never noticed
a bed of broken wishes
and sunken-middle vases.

The sky unrolls like parchment
and angels lose their footing
as all the devils of the world
fly free, screaming.

You've spun your pretty blonde hair
and now you just look away
and I'm left, stranded
driving off into
a neon horizon.

Your hair
tangles
hands
across hips
the color red
your familiar
alien scent
as stars dance
in your dilating eyes.

It's a cold and lonely world
when the only person
you can talk to
is paid to do so
once every ten days or so.

When no one wants details,
and friends respond only with emojis
the cold of Winter
snaps especially deep.

When you are here,
you light up my world.
And so,
when you're gone,
I keep all the lights on.

The bedroom light on
(I imagine you in there reading)
The bathroom light on
(I imagine you in there grooming)
The living room light on
(I imagine you doing homework)

And still,
my world,
is dim.