You didn’t just leave me;
lost in the rifts of static
and hollow voices clinging to wires,
as they floated invisibly in airwaves-
you were there too.
propelled you into teasing
white flames of misdirection
like it was where you were set on going
regardless of opinions and pleading.
I wore your pains everyday
like a coat in death valley
and waited for a familiar face to return
from the addiction of numbness,
and to this day
between twisted fragments of decay
I still trying to find the rest of you.
Some things you can’t take back,
even when the regret
fills the hole in your breast
until you can taste it bitter,
like a straight shot of vinegar
chased with a vain swallow of hope.
Though blooms and roses are both born of seeds
some may deceive;
now lost in the flames,
your flowers are exposed as weeds.