Friday, August 23, 2013


You split me open
and scooped out
the good stuff - 
everything worth knowing,
everything you loved. 

Then you stuffed me
full of paper
and stitched me back up
so that no one would notice
you took more
than your cut. 

Why is all of me
still not enough? 

It's like eating
the pie filling
but never the crust.
Nothing good is left
except the crumbling flour dust. 

I fall apart
without my heart
to pump
the blood
to my hands
my head
my feet
my knees
and I can't breathe.

I am hollow
to the bone,
a shell
of the being
you used to know.

You took it all
and never thought twice
about the lack of life
you left behind.

I could name you enemy
or thief,
but what's the point?

It won't change
how easy
it was for you
to leave
or make you
come back
to the nothing
that is left of me.

No comments:

Post a Comment