We lay intertwined.
Thoughts of moving past this memory are far from what's on my mind.
I like staying here, in this careless imagery.
I like feeling the warmth of you near me.
I know I cannot stay here forever, being together was never in the cards.
Whispering softly, I can feel the room go black.
You're gone, I'm all that I have I have left.
The vultures and flesh eaters of sanity are waiting outside my door.
The windows are locked up tight, leaving no room for air or sunlight.
I like it that way, it shows that no one can allow entrance, nothing can inhabit my being.
She's waiting for me outside it though, she always is.
She knows when I sleep, she's with me when I play.
I wish I could get rid of her, but I know I can't.
She's with every glance I give another, each acknowledgment I spare her.
Oh the wrath of it all, I just want to let everything fall to oblivion.
I'm done trying to keep pieces of me together, the shatter mess should come to an end.
Right on the kitchen floor, rodents and insects glorify the rotting remains, the sharp bits of me don't fend them off.
I'm happy I'm being devoured, less to worry about.
The screams I finally feel leaving my lungs are ones of exhaustion, relief, that it's all over.
I keep you off me, I know you want another time to visit me, especially when I'm this vulnerable and weak.
You'll try to put your arms around me, caress and speak soft, gentle things to me.
I push you off immediately.
YOU'RE JUST A FIGMENT.
Nothing more, I need to stop allowing you access to my door.
I try to shut you out, but your soft kisses allow my beaten heart to moan.
To give out this energy I didn't think still existed within me.
Then you're gone.
Once more, I lay here alone.
© Copyright 2016 Kathleen Megquier. All rights reserved.