it hurts
and I chew my lips
until they’re gone,
history–

though that’s what
lipstick is for,

to press to your
collarbone and hope
it’s enough,

am I ever enough–

this dull pounding in my chest,
gets heavier, harder
so I reach out to you

I hope the demons
will accept me,
allow the gifts I bring
to reside deep within
your chest, like the bones
of your ribcage
but they blanket my words,
reduce my efforts to cinders

like the day she left me
all alone,

always alone–

--LNM