catharsis.

to forget / to remember.

it's like coming home to an empty house.

like being suddenly plunged into the dark.

things that were supposed to be there, gone.

ransacked.

erased.

cleaning, they called it.

as if the memory of you is like dust, like dirt –

like disease.

inside of my mind, I snarl and sob. defiant yet helpless. a paper tigress.

what could I possibly do?

I'm sorry –

I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to fight this –

my love, please forgive me –

they just don't understand, do they?

you can't love the way we do and move on.

you can't love the way we do and escape unscathed.

and you don't love the way we do just to let it go.

panic. fear. longing.

absence, as opposed to presence.

(I feel like I'm going to go insane.)

they tell me to forget, move on, let go –

but if they spilled my blood on the tile,

they'd still hear it singing your name.

afraid afraid afraid beats its way through my pulse, nailing me to the floor.

do you still want me?

do you still love me?

        

are you still mine?