you met me at a pivotal moment in my life
the moment i found that i was nothing, where i began to question
who we are, why we’re here, what gives things caliber

i am not worthy of worth.
you understood that.

you relished in my vulnerability
you brought sanctum
but what happens to all good things?

we met in secret.
i lurked in the dark as you lurked in me
i remember the heat, warmth that made us melt
the flame that got you simmering
fingertips studded and etched with broken glass and fresh pink scars
scars, you told me, that created beautiful contrast
with the faded white marks of our past escapades
i worried they were evidence.
you were moved, and called it art.

looking past the cold sweats and the sleepless nights,
forgetting about the dodgy lies and the empty alibis,
in complete disregard of the hazy evenings and the misplaced memories,
and giving no sympathy for the ache and guilt of yet another ‘one last time’,
i use you up, you wear me down.
and as an entity unworthy of worth,
i learned to understand that.