Sunday, January 24, 2010

Three

I have called myself a rock face
Free of fracture, cold and quiet
Yet you've slipped along this surface
Fingers finding every crack to
Climb a wall, you find each soft space
As you track a line of sweetness
Running like a coal deposit
That you recognize as weakness.

When you promised me you'd break me
I didn't realize that your smile
Was a smirk, you meant to warn me
That your body lacked a soul.

That when you left, and in your wake
You left me crumbled on the carpet
(Such a mess in my apartment),
You would take a piece, the spoils
Of this absolute destruction,
A reminder you were thorough,
That I'll never be quite whole.

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