fingertips pried my ribs apart
invited themselves in
with malicious whispers
of belonging, the kind that
make lonely hearts beat.
made a mess of the
pretty girl, the nightmare
in a white dress.
made myself a throne,
heir to my own wreckage.
crown of broken glass
and bloodstains, and
you wonder why
my kingdom is in shambles.

wash me out of
your sheets;
I never
belonged in
them
in the first place.

I keep trying to fix myself
by destroying everything
around me and I'm still
surprised every time I
find myself alone in my own
wreckage.

unzipped myself,
unzipped the fabric
of my realty,
let thirsty want
open doors into
rooms it did
not belong.
I unmade our
bed in my
desperation to
feel something
else. and still
all I am left
with is a hole
in my soul
shaped like you.

so torn between
two mouths
that I almost
would rather
choose neither.

I wish we could
unwrite stories.
I wish I could
undo these
paragraphs
and uncurve
these arcs. I
wish things
were different.
I wish we
were better.

the leaving was
meant to heal,
to relieve. but
again and again,
i am proved a
fool.