on this day.

the ashes blow with the wind, you're still nowhere to be found.

lxii. THE ASHES BLOW WITH THE WIND,
YOU'RE STILL NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.

can you see it through all the windows in this room? me staring back at you? the ghost of what we were trapped in the reflection? like a broken record it replays our first kiss on the dark navy couch you sold last week, how we danced on the carpet to Christmas music long after we decorated the tree. it reminds you about how we weren't pieced right but we still made it work just like the glass that bends the image of you in half but still tries it's best at what it does. the shadow of what i used to be catches you staring out into the world unknown, losing your breath with each gust of wind. you don't cry, but sigh, wait for my arms to wrap around you or my voice to call your name yet i never come around anymore.

so you sit on the stained carpet and you stare at the old me that loves you entirely. part of me confused as to where i have ran off to, why each day she doesn't have something new to fall in love with, another piece of me waits for my return, knowing how much my heart hurts back at home. but i keep quiet, ignoring all your calls.

if you really wanted an answer,
you'd burn the house down
break the glass until it resembles
my frozen tears in the midst of winter.

watch the me that's still a part of you scream
out in pain as she is engulfed into flames ;

listen as she sings over the burial ground of
where first love found no strength to continue
what was freshly bloomed to be something breathtaking.

never return for she's still looking for you
in the ruble you left behind with black coated fingers
and glossy red eyes.

leaving her broken heart to heal on its own,
the most second painful thing she's had to go through, 
the first,
losing you.