your silhouette
bleeds
a background
of tears
inside me and
flowing out
of me the
pain of ages
held in rages
my soul in cages

your handprint
touchless
yet pushes me
to the
breaking point
like stapled glass
no true fix
for the pieces
you've left me in
broken child
meek and mild
none the wild

your empty boot
doc martens
though maybe
endlessly
crushes me
my will ground
under such
an empty
sole as you
what shall I do
but wait
for
the other boot
to drop
imprint lies
self despies
no big surprise

why can't I see
you are
what I have
built you to be
an empty form
an ink-less print
a weightless step
all kept alive by me
fake anatomy