Left to my Own Devices

I try to be strong.
You’ll never make me stay here, darling.
But I’m wrong, so very wrong.
I could never leave.
And though I tried to stick the pieces together,
They all came apart.
One look from you melts my mold
And one touch burns my skin
But that heat never did the damage your mouth did.
A million pounds of adhesive could never undo the fragility
I become more with every curse.
Every harsh word rips apart a piece of seared flesh,
Like a warm knife through butter.
Oh, how it glides straight through the center,
And leaves nothing but a wet trail of tears.
They drop to the floor with a thump,
Like the driving rhythm of my head and heart,
That quickens with every breath of your smell,
A toxin to my brain and an antidote to my heart.
It pounds on and on relentlessly like the rain on the sidewalk
As I swallow my fears and pride and lift my hand to knock.
My eyes are soggy as my hanging clothes as the door swings open.
I remember your sad eyes and your sleep-with-me smile,
And maybe you’ll just beckon me in and it will be all okay.
You stand there and just for a moment it’s over, but then you remember.
The door slams and once again, I’m consumed with my own grief,
A drunken sopping mess on the stoop of bitter memories.