for so long when it's clear
as a diamond that you
were not shining? I'm the looking glass
you cut. You did not like the picture I held up.

Why did I hold on
to the delusion that you were seeing
stars when you were
snoozing as my scars were bleeding
shards that ripped me apart.

Why did I hold on
to the years that melted
as a snowman into a puddle
on the ground that spread around
my feet? All that’s left is
a carrot on a stick you’ve burned
as a wick.

Why did I hold on
when holding on pains me
so? I just couldn’t let you go, as if
I'd let go of myself in the letting you out.