I have studied the bruises on my legs,
Each one unique in it's own way like snowflakes but not as beautiful.
Not only are my legs filled with these blots of discoloration, they fill me as well.
My stomach aches with the touch of your hand.
My Lungs wince with the scent of your skin.
My heart is slowly caving in on itself with the intent of your every word.
And my brain,
Oh my brain, is being trapped in its own cloudy judgment that your every being created
Leaving me and my emotions so it dismembered that there is nothing left.
Only little particles of dust that I only beg that you breathe in.
So that I can destroy every bit of your insides, just as you did mine.