the inevitable

*thirty-five

when will your name erode off of my mind?
i vowed myself to never dedicate
another word towards you again,
but my heart feels like it's going to burst
with a dark, rotting hurt.
that has nothing better to do than to age
and infect
and create such an overpowering stench,
it takes weeks to lift from my clothing.
that's what you are to me.
a stain that never seems to rub off.
every so often
i run my fingers through my hair
and question why
after all these years i find myself tangled
in the marionette strings
i cut so violently from my wrists and ankles.
the ones you so lovingly tied onto me,
i couldn't bare throw them away.
i've realized i've made a mess of myself after scattering them all over the floor.
With the box staring at me
in which they so politely sat in
as the time went by.
like a stamp of permanent ink,
i struggle to see through
the smudges you leave behind.
the worst part is that i know that i will never occupy your thoughts as much as you live in mine.
i let you in once again to only be met by the thick roots i tried so hard to bury.
now here they are scattered on the living room floor, making a mess out of my carpet.
i try to harness control, but my words escape me ever too quick.
thoughts of you have evolved
from clever zaps of electrified intrigue
to the harsh sting of what could have been.
i mourn for the others you've left in your wake
for all the hearts you carry on your sleeve.
for you're ever eager to show
all love but your own.
Years may pass
these words will come to a dull conclusion.
i pray i read these in content acknowledgment.
far from this shameful longing i've had for so long.
I live in who you are
whether you know it or not.
Your name may be etched
to an old forgotten memory,
but i realize now,
that i've done the same.