The thought of you with another
overwhelmed me to the point of breakage.

Sometimes I wonder if you think of me,
if you long for me as I do for you.

I have always desired intensity,
emotions so strong they burn.

Our love burned to ash, and
I was left sifting through it for my heart.

I watched you walk away from the wreckage,
soot on your shoes and face.

In the core of the mess, I wailed,
gnawing at myself to dissolve.

You washed yourself off in a river
much more stronger than my own tide.

I watched it as it swept you away and
before vanishing, you smiled.

Now in this wreckage alone, I see
the cracked mirror on the surface.

It was once covered with flowers
that sprouted from our words of love.

As I wash away the ash with my tears,
I wound myself on the sharp glass.

The blood pools on the mirror and
I at long last see myself.