I cleansed myself of everything that was left of you.
So in turn,
I disappeared too.
For so much of me,
had been you, for so long,
I wasn’t sure there would be anything else.
You had crawled under my skin,
made your home in my headspace,
and you just... lived there.
Unkempt and untamed.
Wreaking havoc.
Weaving your smirk through the darkest corners
like the cobwebs that never seem to have a keeper.
Appearing in dark corners with no other evidence of the architect.
You were the spider,
that left your masterpieces for me to stumble upon
before retreating underneath the memories you thought I’d never unpack.
The pile of film reels,
Our first kiss,
the last kiss..
Everything in-between.
There, you hid waiting,
for my guard to come down,
Something, anything, to remind me of you
giving you time to weave your last words to me
in your silken strands
So that when I returned from nostalgia,
there they were.
You needed time.
You needed space.
You were sorry,
because I really was great
But it wasn’t the right time...
All the *******.
All the lies.
Enough.
Enough now.
So I went into every corner,
cleaned out every crevice,
scrubbed down every wall with bleach,
until all the remained of you,
and therefore all that remained of me,
was that empty room,
and a hollowed chest.
And when I finally found you,
cowering underneath the last cardboard box,
the one with the last of the memories
of how you used to look at me,
I killed you with my shoe,
walked out of that room,
and slammed the ******* door behind me.