Memories of yesterday
have started to feel like
dark chocolate tastes: bittersweet.
We used to exist as one.
Now, the dead grass crunches
and sings melodramatic harmonies,
as I am forced to walk away.
The springs of your mattress would
screech out lullabies underneath
the weight of our sleeping bodies.
Now there is only silence to keep me warm.
Your ignorance now screams in tones
low enough to shake the ground
beneath my aching feet.
I am tired of standing around waiting.
Tired of existing only as your past.