i don't see you when i look in the mirror anymore your eyes aren't burning behind mine, bloodshot and tired there is a new vacancy about me-- i'm the only one here now, finally (finally)
i am soft and filling in these empty spaces with poetry, home cooking, and coconut oil i don't cry about the afterlife, i just cry for me (and only sometimes) i'm not sorry about it-- your existence within me rotted, and quickly we were grotesque partners in crime, but i work much better as a single entity