ETIOLATED

REFRACTION

you left (that's true)
but parts of you
they stay, a vestige

fragments of your voice
and the words you spat like venom
in the heated hell-fires of our arguments

like shrapnel from an explosion
scorching the lungs i used for screaming
apologies still lodged deep inside throats

the haunting ghost of your fingertips
like the shattered windscreen
of the car you crashed

because we couldn't love agreeably
litter and prickle and pierce
the skin where you've touched

and while it hurts, it is necessary
that you left
but every so often

sunlight catches and refracts
on the pieces of broken glass and shrapnel
and it stains my soul in your colours

colours i am so familiar with
and i'm reminded
of the, of the...

and suddenly
you leaving
doesn't make sense anymore