sometimes i seriously doubt
if i will ever recover
from this loss,
this bruise
from losing you.

sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night
to sweat soaked sheets and mascara-drenched pillow cases,
curled up in full fetal-position
and i think about you
and how i'm lucky that i even accomplish falling sleep
at all.

i think that's just the difference between the body and the mind -
the body won't stop contorting itself to match your
dissected heart
just because you did or did not decide to say
goodbye to someone.

and this is why i woke up with a knots like stones
inside of my back,
practically paralyzed
it's like my body is trying to punish me
for going against its
ferocious nature. all it wants
is to be back inside you.

sometimes i seriously doubt
if i will ever recover
from this loss,
this bruise
from losing you.

broken has made a cold home out of me.