There is so little of you left now...
Every waking moment, each time my eyes open, less and less...
So I keep them closed, tighter and tighter.
So very tight, like that will somehow keep me from losing you. As if that will somehow keep me from losing myself.
The irony is that I am lost either way, with or without you.
At least this way I can slow it down. I should have made a map, to get back to me, to who I was before.
But there is no before anymore, only after......after you.
The pieces of you that you fed me, I devoured.
Consumed.
Inhaled.
I took you in so deeply that you became a part of me.
Your eyes stole more than glances, they weaved a fabric across my body that tethered me to you. Your words were both sweet and salacious, provocative in their intent. They were the shades to my grey, but every time you came it was in color. You were the necktie turned noose. And I took pleasure in it all, until I didn't.
And now no matter how much I purge,
and rage...
and break...
you still stay, entwined.
Fused.
Cemented. In me.
Despite the wine, and bodies and faces that I made mine.
So many bodies I buried myself in to lose you. My headstone a black book of digits re-dialed.
The gravity of your absence and weight of these memories have become too heavy to hold. So I let you sink in me, anchoring you to my core. The locked safe that I could never escape. A tomb at the bottom of an ocean of regret; my heart held hostage and me with no key, and no air to breathe... terrified.
Petrified.
Mummified.
Trapped, in a sarcophagus of mementos, forever listening to the echo of what was. A bookmark of when time stood still, left to be Queen to an empire of sorrows.
Long live the Queen. Alone may she reign.
Now sleep and music are what I bury myself in.
Tuned in and tucked in, I fade away. I'm doing my best.
Letting my heart dream of you in a place between love and loss, between you and I, when I was still me.
All the while still searching for that key. . .
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Doing My Best
