the hollow
nothing fills -
the shadow of you
lingers, leaching
every last ounce of life
out of me.

the apologies, the anger
the rage, the hate, the love,
the fists and the holes in
the walls

the painting hangs in the
living room, the one of the
ghosts who still loved
each other.

and the ache, and the
longing, and the loss

it's battles and wars
and some of them are
victories and some of them
are losses and in the
end we both lose.

your hands -
all the places on my
body where you touched me,
all the places in my
mind where you bruised me,
and all the places in
my heart where you killed me.

recovery is a minefield
and all the parts of me I lost
still lay on your bedroom floor.