in your home
dead moths
line the window sills
destined to a grave of dust
outdoor light gets
caught up in the grains
of rust
so nothing grows there.
your heart has rusted too,
splinters in your blond
hair.
splinters in the world you see.
the world that i have gone from.
it took me so long to be able to say goodbye.
to stop looking for your car to drive by.
now you're coffee dregs,
the stuff i wash down the drain.
i do not think of you when i smile,
i do not wish for your touch when i am
in pain.
no longer am i under your hex.
for this is salem,
and the witches hang.