I painted the insides
of my mind white
so that maybe I could erase
the memory of you
but as days
turned to weeks
the idea of your fingers
laced in mine grew
and soon the paint
began to chip
and soon my stiches
began to rip
and I broke apart into pieces
once again
with fragments of my heart
scattered among the shore
and as the salt sunk into my skin
stinging the scars on my soul
you watched with open eyes
then turned around and closed the door