With You Gone
Through my cracks, I could see you. I could see you peeking out at me through your cracks. I reached out for you, giving myself to you instantly. Through gentle promises and whispered lies you assured me that you would catch me. You wrapped my body in delicate words and mangled promises, guaranteeing a future for us that you wouldn't give me. With each passing moment, you lured me out of hiding. Without much resistance, I fell out and into you. My sides split open, my chest tour apart, I poured out of the broken ruins that had become my body. You elegantly slipped out of your cracks, keeping your body hole, promising a sweet return if you didn't like what I was.
I spilled out, a tsunami of pure darkness. I flooded you with my needing. I overwhelmed you with my love as you floated toward me slowly. I was so mesmerized by the way you lit me up with happiness that I didn't notice at first how reluctant you were to hold me. Distracted, I focused on how good it felt to be with you. The feeling only grew more intense the closer we got. We collided; slipping in and out of rhythms, falling over each other. You let me hold you as our beating hearts skipped into sync.
Eventually, I could tell something was wrong. My darkness was seemingly dulling your light. Why? Why was I shading your brilliance? Could you notice? Would you care?
Of course, you noticed. Of course, you cared. You had already begun to draw back. The way you looked at me changed. Your stares, now nonexistent, burned holes in my heart. Not a word was spoken and yet I knew. I understood. You did not want me.
In silence, you skimmed fastback through your cracks and into yourself again. Without a second thought, you forgot about me. As you went, you took a piece of me. I collapsed. My bear heart, a melted puddle of my tears on the floor, surrounded by the shattered remains of who I was.
What am I to do now that you are gone?