I have spent a great deal of time, too much perhaps, reflecting upon the beauty of broken things. Broken, like tufts of dandelion fruit carried upon the wind. Broken, like the jagged edge of smashed glass. Broken, like thoughts ~ yours ~ I once felt upon my skin, in the darkness, as I lay next to you. Broken, like an empty space that has taken your shape. Broken, like the comfort and rest I once received from our bed, now a shrine to the restless desolation that lives inside my insatiable thirst for you. Your scent lingers on the bed linens. So much so, I cannot stand to breathe it in. So much so, that I cannot bring myself to launder them. The stark solitude of your empty chair screams silently, a deafening, paralyzing scream. Still, to me it seems immovable. Your absence eats away at me, from the inside, out. I want to erase all traces of you from my life. How do I do that without erasing myself?

Submitted by bell-jar-physics.

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    words i wish i could find
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