Gone
You’ve gone, and
in truth, you were never really here.
Just a pair of headlights,
in the midst of a brief wrong turn.
Yet, the weight of your arm
that I felt once around my shoulder
still drowns me, pulls me down.
Your soft hands still paint cruel
shadows twisting among my trees.
Babe, what way must I turn,
to not see you anymore?
How long can I ignore
the fire that you started,
my breath held, feet frozen,
and eyes glazing, before it burns me?
Brings down my house.
Turns me to ruin.
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