Brushed aside
unimportant
all emotion
laying dormant
Needing someone,
showing weakness
bow my head
to plead forgiveness.
Fools believe
that they could matter
fragile hearts
lay broken, scattered.
Twist the knife
then turn the page
too tired for sleep
too numb for rage.
Self hatred wins
the sweet redeemer
as lies unfold
to scar the dreamer.

When you leave, go without a whisper,
as though you were never here. 
Do not leave tear stains on my pillow or kiss my eyes and beg them not to cry.

Dissipate, let the thin air replace you. Leave no echo, no trace of your existence, 
no backward pity glance at what might have been, 

**** the drawn out goodbye, the heartfelt speech, the apologies for the inevitable.

It's not you it's me.....It's always me.

Let the truth hang  above my broken form, swaying as the ceiling creaks under its bitter weight. I will dance to it's rhythm soon enough.

Then cease.

This dark is filled with ghosts.

Teaming fingers, bone cold with the agony of sorrow brush my brow, willing me to mourn, to cease to be within this beating form and join the shadows that beckon.
I chase oblivion down to the bottom of the nearest bottle and beyond, my smile a painted scar that masks the ugliness within, as numbness creeps silently into the corners of my soul.

I will not belong within the hearts of the living.
I will not be long at all.

Yes I remember
that night
in midwinter,
the one
that we burned
on the hill,
and the moon
and the stars
and the
somersault sparks
and wanting
it all
to stay still,
and yes I remember
the warmth
of the embers
and daring
the future
with hope
at the
very same time
your fingers
touched mine
as softly as if
they were smoke.