He clamored for her.
Well the semblance of what remained of her.
His skin, forever stained by her lips
seemed to shrink around his very skeleton.
His organs rioted amongst themselves
poisoned by heartache.
And his voice, muted by sadness.
There he sat…
writhing in his own despair,
suffocating within his solitude.

For Days When I Am Not Myself

Do not coddle me with sweet nothings
or succumb to my deep glances
or entertain my self-referential whining.
No, impugn my ability to captivate your imagination.