Or if you prefer,
think of me as a bad memory
that crawled across your face like an animal.
Hitting the shell of his lost self hard,
wanting a time when death wasn't all around me.
has burned a hole of forgetfulness
inside this naked woman.
that reminds me, only of you
is still on the counter top,
at me to lose myself inside it all over again.
To fall back on my old ways.
To get on my hands and knees,
and prey that I don't fall through the cracks.
His face keeps me up at night,
like stars, that love the moon to brightly.
My window is all I know of the outside world.
I look again,
to the counter top,
with memories of you spread all over it,
and I think,
do I really need you that badly?