A Piece

A piece of me died today
Not the melodramatic all my happiness has ended you’ve left a black hole inside of me piece
But a real piece
A my vision is blurred piece
A my edges are frayed piece
A Psychotic what do I do without you piece
Id even reprint the bruises on my body
if you would come back to me so that my piece and your piece could find themselves again.
I would stencil your finger prints back onto my neck and squeeze myself just to feel you..
to feel anything…
But this dull ache..
Even your exhausting pain
A glimpse of your fingers as they curl into that all too familiar fist.
The casual snap as my body crumples into that eloquent position where you know its gone too far
The Violent monotony of our lives seems but a wistful dream against this morbidly silent reality
At least you loved me .. brokenly..but loved me .
Even when you screamed not so sweet nothings into my soul at least someone spoke to me ..
The way you would furiously strum on your guitar strings as precisely as you would pluck out the strands of my hair .
Creating your soft melodies ...
Mood music for one of your angry rants ...
where your words would unfold me .
Then shred me ...then mould me ...
Into someone I didn’t recognise.
But ...
If you asked me I would mould myself into anyone you needed just so I could take a shape...
In your sinewy arms i found solace..
Out of your depraved lunacy i found an organised chaos..after ten years I remain stationary ..
A groan escapes my lips
my ribs are still broken ...
I miss you