Breadcrumbs out of pieces of our souls we thought you’d cherish
Tossed behind to guide us through our grief
Out of the cemetery where we buried our futures you aborted
Out of the cemetery
Where you dug your grave with the bones of your lovers
Empty bed with two many people in it
Your hair on and off your head
Our minds in and out of yours
“How do you exist?”
Does it still make you shiver?
“Only you are allowed to see my insides”
Did you bury those words inside her too?
Blanket made of embraces, caresses, sighs, moans
How many sheets on your mattress?
I meant every breath
You stole my oxygen
Will it burn your lungs from the inside out?
How can you inhale me, exhale her
And think that we would not discover our names crowded behind your teeth?
You cannot rinse me out
How many others?
Is that why you made us smaller?
Barely a bite-sized second of your day
Click the red box at the top corner
Drive to her warmth, my time is up
Parasite burrowed in our spaces
Hotel rooms, make shift places
Fingers tangled like the web of lies you spun
Catching my hair, catching her breath
Eyes locked like lips, our names fighting for space
Like our faces in the memories you hide behind your lashes
Like the weight you placed on our chests
Collapsing the lungs beneath the cage where you locked yourself inside
Tonight I clean and carve
And purge and scrape
Refill the void with compassion, laughter, reassurance
I am self-sufficient