If I were ever
to damage
myself
it would only be
so that I
could bleed
poetry.

You came in black.
Drenched in black,
encompassing the night into your every move.
Sun or moon for each eye,
stars twinkling your feet
so that you can slip quietly in,
black holes removing all evidence of breaking in.

You crept slowly, surely
grabbing everything you found,
every little
secret, scar, soul shine
into that bag you clung to,
clutching it so that it hung from your back.

You passed my fire place.
Empty, with nothing left but coal and dust.
The fire once there?
Now long extinguished.
You shivered,
and continued looking.

You glanced at the kitchen counter.
Strewn across it were spices
and ripped up shreds of pictures
of all those loved.
Mixed into remnants of
entrees, appetizers, desserts,
too good to be true,
gobbled up too fast,
gone.
You shudder,
continue.

Finally, you find what you're looking for.
In the basement, kept in a safe right by where I slept,
you found it.
You reached towards me,
slowly, silkily took the key I had around my neck
as I sighed at your touch and unconsciously let you take it.

You twisted the key,
opened the safe
and grabbed the
ornately scarred,
worn down wooden
box that was held inside.

You opened the box.
Inside lay a red thing.
It resembled a minuscule
mauled, mangled, mutilated
crimson heart.
You sighed with relief and tossed the box and it's hideous contents into the bag.

You grabbed everything else you found and put it inside your bag.
Some were lead heavy, others too light...
Memories kept too long,
some fading,
some still fresh,
others just too strong of a memory.

You crept quietly away,
but not before you heard me whisper your name.
You looked away
like the coward you are
and left the house.

The time of night, mid
   It was dark
          She was drunk
The ***** was cheap
   She'd fallen into a nightmare
            Of her own dreams
        And she was in way too deep
Death was at her doorstep
    And the promises she made
             She could no longer keep
   She weeped into the bottle
Then drank some more
       Time was of the essence
    Yet, the past came back to haunt her
            Just like before
      Too much to handle
For their sake
          She handles it everyday
     "Resilience" they say
  But she's a fake
          Weak and ashamed
     How did she get this way?
Those ghosts of memories that
          never faded away
  On that night
     She lost complete control
              And the roses
Were dead and rotting
          Just like her *soul

My mom thinks it's a cold, but really I'm just missing you.