I have left pieces of me
scattered around the graveyard
of my hometown
In all the places
I used to exist.
A part of me
in the space behind the garage,
pieces dug into the
fields of high school,
and broken shards
hidden throughout
the home I both
loved and loathed.

So much of myself
abandoned
like a useless toy
they can no longer
play with,
and no longer works right.
I see them everywhere,
just bloodied little bits
cast aside
after being picked at
by friendly vultures.
And the pieces of myself
that I still hold together
between my fingers
Are ones
I barely recognise anymore.

I keep thinking,
If I play the music
loud enough
and swallow the drinks
fast enough,
I can avoid
facing the awful truth
of just how hollow
I really am.

It doesn’t work.
No matter how far
I run away,
I can’t escape
the memories that haunt me.
My skeletons have dug their way
out of my closet
to stare at me in
the mirror
with a toothless grin,
and a knife to continue
the damage
I started
A long time ago.