Six winters have passed and my ribs still crack when someone speaks your name.

I can still feel the burn of your fingertips grazing the flesh of my hipbones like silk

Your lips igniting every atom in my lips as they touched my own

The filthy words you whispered to me in the still of the night, for only my ears to hear

Six winters have passed and I also remember the day you abruptly left

Instead of burning touches you left indifferent  icy coldness

No longer atoms exploding within me but shards of glass, splitting me open

No longer filthy words but the painful truth that you had found someone else

Six winters have passed and I can still hear the pathetic drip of my voice begging you to stay

Only to have the door remain shut in my face.