He would rather,

Nestle in her tranquil smile,

Let her soft fingertips,

Trace his jawline,

Than sit with me,

On the thorny ground,

And pick up

My broken pieces,

Buring his nails

In the coarse dirt

And the soot

From my bleeding soul;

I blame him,




You left me with a ghost,
To keep me warm, in the darkest nights.
And the blistering days.

To haunt my mind,
With memories of once upon a time,
To sink into my depths,
And pull out emotions,
That I bury with concrete,
Each and everyday.
To be there with me,
Whether I limp or float.
To be my measuring scale;
The voice in my head.

Every passing minute,
I concoct a new plot to kill it.

Thicker the prison I make for it,
The grandest break out it makes.
I cut it down,
And it grows three more heads.
I strangle it,
And it slips right through my hands.
I cannot burn it down,
Without burning me along.
I cannot bury it in,
Without burying me along.

You left me with your ghost,
And somehow, you still survive,
Behind your callous mask.