Go ahead, my dear,
twist that knife in deeper.
Create some sort of echo in the empty cavernous hole
that is now my chest.
By your unwelcome departure
you have made yourself an unwelcome ghost in my heart.
I tried again to send my request of love
out into the universe,
only to have a door slammed in my face
and twice bolted shut.
I still feel you,
I still breathe in the resemblance of your touch
every time I close my eyes.
I gave you the world,
but it still wasn’t enough.
I hope you find in him the pieces I failed to press
into the puzzle that was your broken heart.
I will come to forgive you,
but the truth is still set:
You’ll always live on as my regret.

But now,
I see the truth of who you are:
your voice dripped with honey,
but was laced with poison,
your fingers worked their way along my spine,
promising to be a healing balm for my soul,
but cut into me like knives.
You have become a shadow,
a demon that haunts my thoughts in the night,
none of which matters now.
Because, in the end,
you chose the arms of another.