I was once a lucid dream, gleaming in the eyes of your fiction. Now I cling to our remains, remaining scarred.
I am aware, that you no longer love me, but are you aware of the weight those words placed on my lungs, stealing my breath, threatening my life?
Far be it to shout from roof tops and rejoice in my need to devour your affection, as if it were my last meal, because I never believed in fairy-tales.
See, I am aware, you've moved on. But are you aware of the trail of destruction I've left, mowing through the odds and ends searching for remnants, of you?