Falling Apart
You live in a photo negative,
that enters me as I sleep.
A heartbeat with no pulse,
buried feelings that run deep.
An angel made of jagged stone,
those blistered eyes are true.
Sitting alone by those drapes,
admiring the lonely city view.
The closet packed up in boxes,
a check for the last months rent.
A half pressed shirt by the stove,
that still held his manly scent.
Shirts and ties that were left,
and everything you did not break.
He took all of your innocence,
and his love for you was fake.
A whisper from down the hall,
repeatedly calls you by name.
There is nobody at the door,
except for a broken picture frame.
Shards of glass with his reflection,
smile back with a snappy stare.
You shout for him to leave,
but there is no one there.
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