There are easier ways to die

I told him
over steaming
cups of tea
that we cradled
and tended to like
children

he would have me
wandering, crawling
from room to room,
like a beast consumed
with the hunger for
dead meat

I've heard him talking
to himself at night,
sitting, smoking,
staring out at stars

I know I've left
scars on his heart

his eyes blue
from the effort
of trying to
to break

but I wake up
each morning,
checking my hair
before I touch
his face

I let him sleep
and take the pillow
case off, shred it
with my hands,
burn it with the
hate that rises
like heat inside
me when I know
that it will be
the same
tomorrow

we used to
fit into each
other effortlessly

now my bones
stick out and
catch the small
of his back like
a spike

six more months
they say and all I
see is my skin
sagging, my stomach
sinking, my heart
beating less and
less

it hurts to know
he hates the things
I think, the thoughts
I can't make him see

There are easier ways to die

than to be eaten
bit by bit
to the bone