Never will there be one worth holding,
Who can truly be held; 
Take that truth and become whole again, 
The pain will become like a stone;
A dark charcoal-black stone,
Your agony, your hard and precious agony, 
Hold it close, 
Lay it on your heart,
Let it hide your sadness. 
Hold it so tightly,
It forms a diamond,
And when the loneliness and heartache overwhelms you,
Peer into the expanse of the glacial stone.
Stare deep into the pain and realize your beautiful truth,
Never will there be one worth holding,
Who can truly be held.

Can't call 911 for this,
I can't save you this time.

Open the curtains for the first time in ages.
The walls weep,
dripping yellow-brown nicotine,
crying brown tears for you.
Carpet stained spots of brown black blood,
a macabre Jackson *******.
Stained, sweat-soaked sheets smell,
the stench of withdrawal and agony.
**** and mold growing on the toilet,
like tiny bonsai trees.

The sun catches your face,
lightly touching a cheek-bone,
saying goodbye in it's own way.
Hazel eyes wide open,
mouth frozen,
a sort of painful grimace.

I want to clean it all away.
I want to scrub every wall,
every moulding,
every inch.
Bleach it all white.
Pull the **** across a giant etch-a-sketch of the scene.
And when it's clean,
When all of it is finally clean...

I will cover every wall like a canvas, with every note you ever left me.
Top to bottom,
wall to wall,
I will paint your words.
When I was away too long and you missed me,
when you wanted to cheer me up,
Or when you just wanted to say,
"I love you".