A heart full of wine
and liquor-spotted lips
I can’t remember the last time we kissed or how long it lasted for.

Yesterday’s makeup across a sham of a smile
I always catch a glimpse of you on Sundays; it’s where you used
to hold my hand and trace secrets across my forearm.

Daisies stripe the path we ambled again and again until the grass was embedded
with stumbling prints of your neon Nikes and the soft tap of my feet.

I still feel you in my veins
The toxin levels rise; I watch it on the monitor.
A plastic bracelet wraps my wrist too tight, the way your left hand did.

I expected you to burst like a volcano
and flood me with heat, scalding my ribs
and charing all flesh.
I waited for you to make me new,
and you didn’t.
My hair was the darkest black,
and I faded into shadows
following you.