I leave a pillow open next to me at nights,
just in case
on some fortunate night,
you come out of my dreams.

My hands are black from the dirt I've been pounding my fists in
and my tears roll down my nose and settle at my lips.
My knees are sore and stained green from when I collapsed.
I collapsed.
Thinking of you, I collapsed.
And my knees hit the ground, leaving them sore,
and I made fists and watched my tears turn the dirt
into mud when I collapsed thinking of you.

I'm sweeping up the last bit of your hair.
I've already steamed the couches and rid them of your scent.
You're gone.
And now my memory is jogged.
From time to time things jog my memory.
Things like walking out the front door, those times you tried to run away.
And taking a bath, you bathed here once.
And laying in my bed where your warmth was welcomed.
Mundane things that I can't escape.

See you later.
Actually, I hope later never comes.

I feel hollow,
to be honest.
I'll float in the ocean
until I'm dragged down by some powerful fish.
And even then,
it will be a struggle for the fish.

You sat on the couch so indifferently.
I sat on the floor, my back against a ball,
directly across from you.
Red lights strung above our heads,
you towered.
Fangs, small fangs, exposed with every
-ey, -ay, i-, -ie, -ape, -ate, -eat, -ee-,
smile, and grin, etc.
I just kept looking up at you,
our eyes always made contact.
Yours were red.

You seem so happy,
destroying yourself and your bonds.
Why would I want to take that away from you?
I just want you to tell me,
tell me that you want to destroy yourself and your bonds,
instead of keeping me attached by a knotted rope
and bringing me down with you.