remnants of smoke still

drifting out of my ears but

even the beautiful spirals

can't push away the images

of you dancing naked in my

closet or snatching the last

bit of ******* even though

you don't even like jam you

were always taking the bits

of me that i wanted most and

all that's left now are the vestiges

of an empty shell how cliche,

how mediocre is it that you're

gone and i'm left here wrapped in

your flannel smoking the very stuff

i swore would **** you but you

managed to do that first didn't

you i always let you take those

bits of me that mattered most

because i looked at you

and all i could see within the

fractured hull that was your skin

was darkness but i could tell you

were building a whole person

deep in there with my scraps

i could hear the echoes of a scream

that wasn't yours but i didn't realize

until i got the call last tuesday that i

could wail in the exact tone and

frequency of those echoes funny

how grief works, you were dying

the whole time and i didn't even

notice you were fading, but now

that you're gone i can't get you

out of my head