When you leave, go without a whisper,
as though you were never here. 
Do not leave tear stains on my pillow or kiss my eyes and beg them not to cry.

Dissipate, let the thin air replace you. Leave no echo, no trace of your existence, 
no backward pity glance at what might have been, 

**** the drawn out goodbye, the heartfelt speech, the apologies for the inevitable.

It's not you it's me.....It's always me.

Let the truth hang  above my broken form, swaying as the ceiling creaks under its bitter weight. I will dance to it's rhythm soon enough.

Then cease.

This dark is filled with ghosts.

Teaming fingers, bone cold with the agony of sorrow brush my brow, willing me to mourn, to cease to be within this beating form and join the shadows that beckon.
I chase oblivion down to the bottom of the nearest bottle and beyond, my smile a painted scar that masks the ugliness within, as numbness creeps silently into the corners of my soul.

I will not belong within the hearts of the living.
I will not be long at all.

Do you remember
that midwinter night
the one with ice
in the air
the one that
we burned
until it
turned white
that nobody
else could
stand near
do you remember
the dance of
the slender
flames as they
tortured the cold
when they
were done
you glowed
like the sun's
tongue had been
licking
your soul.