Parts of me are leaking, spilling onto the floor like dark ink.
Those that can see avoid it like the Black Death.
Maybe they’re the clever ones.

But I see you, your hands stained dark as night.
The brightness in your eyes is the only light I can see; a beacon.

I watch as your tinted hands wrap around my exposed heart.
At first, I misunderstand. Think the light is a twinkle when it is a glint.

And then you squeeze.

You’re everywhere.

I hate it. But I can’t help it.

You’re behind me in my own reflection.
You’ve stained the walls of my own house with your scent.
Your mark is left on every love heart scribbled on a sticky note.

I still have them.

Your memory plagues my vision.
I can’t go out without you in my mind, strong as the taste of blood on my tongue.

My anger flows hot and white, but not at you.
At myself, for being such a fool.

And yet, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.