You break
like there’s room
to shatter,
as if there’s space
to bleed your iron drops
of soundless fury.
Your rage encompasses
these vast seas of dust,
these oceans of salt
I cry at your window,
and you fall
like peasants toward crumbs,
floundering in the filth
of your own making.
my way through
these shards of you,
these chunks of who you were
so long into the past
that only your rusted edges
remain to bear the pain
of this self-made torture.
Your scars are showing
and I can feel them bleed
with every unanswered call,
every ignored message,
you linger
and so do I
because this heavy need
is as large as your breaking.




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