From the moment I wake up, you are
everywhere. From my thoughts, to my memories, I
cannot escape. Wondering if you deleted my number,
deleted me from your life, and simply trying
to piece together how you so quickly stopped loving me
had you ever begun.
In my phone, though your name is changed, I cannot yet
force myself to delete the only proof I have that we
ever meant something to you: those messages saved from
the days when you said you loved me and hinted at forever.
When did that all change?
In the bag of my miscellaneous possessions you returned to me, my
sweatshirt still smells of your perfume and detergent
I love it and I hate it. Just
that intoxicating candied scent returns my mind to a better place, one
curled next to you, falling into the sapphire sanctuary of your eyes, yet
that place no longer exists and as I make that realization
everything inside my body dies.
My heart cramps up and stings like bleach down a raw throat
My stomach burns with nausea though
I have not eaten in days.
Despite having removed our photos from their home next to my bed
they lied awake upon my desk until a friend noticed
and quickly stashed the poisonous laminates into a drawer,
out of sight, to try to offer a break to my aching
eyes, swollen as my heart from the continuous river of memories
complemented with uncontrollable rapids, soaking my hands.
But it still kills me because even without the visual reminder, I know
that you printed those devils but a week ago.
I don’t know what changed so suddenly
But I know me. And you didn’t.
I know me, and I know I need help.