Not My Love

And there was nothing left to say. After trying so very hard to cling to the shreds, trying to carefully tape them together in dim lighting, crumpled from the death grip you had on them so great your hands shook and heat swirled around your tight body. It all disintegrated.

The ashes fall from your trembling palms and you have to let them float to the floor. Things that were once so full and tangible, slowly coasting through the air to get lost along the dust. Fallen like they never mattered. Like they never happened.

Like that joy was as empty as you are now. Baffling to think that you can feel so hollow, yet your skin pulls and drags from also being so heavy you could collapse to the floor. Lay among the things that seemingly never mattered. A comfortable place you once hibernated for many months in, now a hard, cold surface once more.

Oh, how you thought you'd never be here again. Color and warmth had swept you up from here, you were touched with life. Love cushioned around you, you caved and created home in them. Allowed yourself to relax in the sun beams radiating from them. You let go, and embraced the comfortable scene they built.

Never expecting them to dismantle it. Quietly while you were eyes closed, basking in it all. The love. The home. The belief that it could not only be yours, but was yours.

But a familiar dimming overcame that beautiful, beautiful sunbeam. You keep your eyes shut tight, stomach twisting, thinking no, no, it can't be. Not my sun. Not my home. Not my love.

With the dim, came the cold. Eyes squeezed shut still, you reach out for it. The love. The warmth. Where was it? Tears already pooling, you force your eyes open.

Grey. Everything left, is gray. They, themselves, gray, standing in the doorway, arms full of what you thought was yours. The color. The warmth. The sun. The love. The life. Your life.

No. No. You grasp at the miniscule trail of tiny shreds they left behind as they looked at you, the opening floor, and walked away.