dear r,

i was too deep; stuck upside down
inside this wound rooted to earth
by your stubborn eyes pulling me
away like a silly dream.

i hung from your manipulative fingertips
my arms over stretching
no grip.
slide.
erased.

it’s not that i don’t miss
your eyes your face your voice
its the fact that i no longer want
to feel their stained residue
on my clean skin

but every time i start to heal i/you
pick at the scab. i bleed. i dig
deeper. my fingers weep over
hands misplaced around my
heart

wouldn’t that be ironic if i
choked on a full heart that
refused to be broken?

JANEisnotplain 2.09