aligning stars

Stop trying to clean up the mess I made

I do not know what's worse anymore, the way you can't accept that I'm gone or the way you're burning yourself out trying to put a pile of bones back together. You remind me that you know best; the exact shade of green in my eyes, the crooked kneecap, the way my smile rests on my face. You are afraid, you do not want to forget the little things, the things that only you could ever feel like warm hands on your waist. You do not want to forget the heat of my skin you swore felt like fire blazing over the forest of your body. You do not want to forget the clasp of my hand in yours like an anchor keeping me from floating away into places you wish you could reach. You do not want to forget the way I made you feel, kisses on your cheeks and smiles that make it to your eyes and a love that strips you into only raw emotion. You don't know if you can find lost feelings.

My pieces don't seem to fit together the way you remember them to. They snap into place and form sharp corners and straight edges that seem completely foreign to you. I am no longer soft breaths and flushed, glowing skin. You are disappointed when your fingertips brush over the cold slope of my cheekbones. You do not mark me or leave a trail of sparks in your wake. You wonder how I used to always do that.

You're crumbling, and soon you will taste like ash and look like me. I watch you lose your bits and pieces as you look for my instructions manual, as you cut yourself on my hipbone again. Your plans are failing one after the other and you cannot rebuild a fortress with your bare hands when your house is falling apart.

Darling, realize I am a lost cause. Then learn that letting go is better than breaking your bones for someone who couldn't even take a single paper cut for you.