I fall to the floor, wooden body melting into wooden planks that have absorbed my blood, sweat, tears. Tears that keep falling, a heart that can’t break; what will you do when I’m gone?
Everything I am scattered all around me, everything I was, for you. Ungrateful though you are, you have taught me my lesson. What will you do when I’m gone?
The sun keeps rising, though to me things seem backwards. As the sun rises in the East I will run to the West, in a race I can’t win. The stakes are high. What will you do when I’m gone?
When I’m gone I’d like you to take my things, burn them. Scatter the ashes across mountain tops, through valleys; scatter the ashes in the rushing tides. What will you do when I’m gone?
All my life I waited for you, I was born of your love, I lived while you loved me, and died the day you told me you no longer did. Scars, overlaying scars. What will you do when I’m gone?
The clocks have stopped ticking, the world has stopped spinning, the rivers no longer flow, nothing will grow. People like me are born to be alone. What will you do when I’m gone?
I am disfigured, no one can find love for this, I do not love myself. Knife to wrist, watch me go, I have more power now than you’ve ever wielded. I’ll tell you what to do when I’m gone.
Take my bones, take the girl I was, throw her over the edge of the Earth. Let her fall, let her float, watch my bones dance and rearrange until you can’t recognize me. This is what you will do when I’m gone.
Shoes
Brown boots
thrown carelessly
by the door
covered in grime
from years of work
Scuffed at the toe,
laces beginning to fray.
Red heels
shiny, new
smelling of leather
still in the box
lovingly wrapped
in silver tissue paper.
Tiny booties,
worn only once
made of soft
pink cotton
embroidered with flowers,
never to be outgrown.
(Source: lovequotesrus)
Fading
The house sits on
the edge of a clearing,
the once green grass
long faded to brown
The house itself,
in visible disrepair,
paint peeling, a roof
that needs patched,
and windows thick
with dust.
And inside the house
an old man sits in
visible disrepair
with thinning hair,
long gone gray,
tattered clothes and
a body that
doesn’t work quite
like it used to.
He sits in his house
as the years pass
keeping company
with nothing but
ghosts and memories
His smile, her brightest ray of sunshine, suddenly darkened by the storm clouds in his eyes. Her mouth, forming the words I love you; his hand forming a fist; her eyes full of fear and his mouth, a frown. The bruises, dark purple, painting the picture of their relationship on the canvas of her creamy white skin.
She loved someone who was never there. He was composed in her mind of texts, short and never what she wanted to hear; smells, his sweat mixing with his deodorant; tears after fights, he’d say things he’d regret but never apologize for. She remembered what was, wanted it again, but stumbling through the darkness all she found was sadness.
