I know you burned my memory the day you walked away.  Wasn't too hard to see from my view. I could hear the one sided conversation you were having with yourself.

Guess you got tired of fighting the storms for me. You wanted something more than what I could give you.

I have bruises on my shins from falling down on my way to you. My arms are battered and bleeding from the mudslide that are the walls surrounding you. But I've enough strength to do one more dance with you.

My stomach is aching from me doubled over in pain. My throat is hoarse from screaming your name. But I've enough breath to ask you for forgiveness.

My eyes hurt from looking through millions of people trying to find you. My cheeks are stained from a thousand tears.

My chest is hollow from the words you said when you left.

The worst blow I took from you wasn't really from you. But. From myself.

I have blisters on my feet. Too many to count. But they're all from what we were and what we became.

I have blisters on my feet from dancing with your ghost.