How many rooms of the house
do I have to clean
to get rid of you?

Which will happen first;
my arms falling off or my heart falling out?
Which do you think would be more painful?

Because you didn't rip it out
and stamp all over it.
It isn't like how people say.

You left it there,
with the damage that you had done.
You left it there to rot.

It can't be cleaned like the rooms of the house.
I simply don't see how
I can ever get clean of you.

If my arms fall off
then I can no longer reach for you
But i think

I would rather my heart fall out
so that I am free of you
and the desire to reach - to cling - can be gone.

My reclamations lay in the corner: your old hoodie, a book, my memories  resting upon the shelf of youth, collecting dust.
I paw at them as if this was a game, as if I'm waiting in the jungle until someone rolls a 5 or an eight.  
As if jumangi was more than TV crews and cameras.
I drag my finger over the book, leather bound and gold laced pages.
I etch your name in the dust because it's sweeter than any childhood fantasy.
My pregnant mind bulges with a  love that's more fierce than a thousand fire-breathing dragons.
I created a cottage out of pieces of our history,  hidden memories lurk like dwarves.
I wrap myself inside your clothes, fragrance like poisoned Apple's, I breath you in.
I could dream of you for eternity as I accept my "sleeping death".