A Personal Reminder To Wash My Sheets

The left side of my mattress has reverted back to it's original form.

The imprint you left from the mornings we slept in no longer exists, but the one your absence has created is larger than you could describe with any unit of measurement.

Every molecule that serves as a building block for the millions of people this city contains has become a reminder of you.

Your cheeks that had begun to shed from years of poor dermatology treatment.

Your painfully familiar scent.

Your nails that had chipped away from complacency.

I can see these imperfections in every blade of grass, every slab of concrete tile outside of my office.

The chain smoking and impulsive tattoo work that I've been using as coping mechanisms aren't nearly enough to rescue me from this hole.

It extends infinitely until the soil gradually forms into ash, and just when the light begins to seep through the opening, I wake up.

I understand now that a world in which I no longer exist is a world without regret for you.

You can have that now.

You're not in my heart, you are my heart.

F**k you. 

Reviews

[Glass Heart Inc]

Interesting poem with a lot of resentment, sadness and anger. I enjoyed reading. It's interesting how everything reminds the character of the imperfections, yet the absence of this other person leaves a hole and claim to be the heart.. A lot of conflicting emotions, but it's a nice poem.

[checkianout]

Thanks so much for the feedback!

[Autumn Falls]

I can just feel the hurt between every word. Beautifully done.

[checkianout]

I appreciate that!