I will write you away,
Scrub the memories of you,
From my insides with the magic of words.
I have already cleaned you away,
With soap and scalding water.
Burning you away from me,
As I hang myself to dry,
In the heat of the sun,
Letting the wind take the scent of you,
Away from me.

And now, all that is left to cleanse,
Is my insides,
Where soap and desperate hands,
Cannot reach and wash.
So I write you away.
With every phrase,
Every word,
Every letter,
I send you away from me.
Let the remnants of you,
That remain within me,
Off into the world,
Following your footsteps.

I shall write until the habits,
The memories,
The emotions,
That are connected to you
Are cut loose and set free.
I shall paint a picture of you,
With my words,
And with every kiss of the
brush and canvas,
With each stroke,
I shall paint the image of you,
Remove it from within me,
And never look upon it again.

I shall write what you were to me,
What you meant to me,
What you made me feel,
Until the words don’t make any sense.

I shall write you away,
Turn pages black with ink
And clear my soul of you.
I shall write,
Until you are ...

Gone.

I let the heart take over,
And heeded to its musings.
Prepared for the battle,
On a naked feeble ground.
But the white men went down,
One by one.
Little did I know,
It was mind over heart.
Suddenly, the voices spoke,
And I heard them say -
" The odds were against you. "

The odds.
They still echo.