I can hear him knocking at the door
I feel the rhythm of the beating in my chest and head.

It overwhelms me, bleeding down into my core,
my heartstrings hanging by a single thread.

I cannot handle your lingering presence anymore.

I am exhausted from a constant state of dread;
an endless game of tug of war
contemplating all of the things I’ve left unsaid.

Compiling a collection of unfinished memoirs
abandoned and stranded in my mind instead.

He is here, choosing which wounds to reopen into deeper sores
I lay awaiting the temporary passage of this bloodshed.