what is left

You are not here.
And I am losing my will to breathe,
to move forward as I allow myself
to unroll at the seams,
careening forward into indulgence.
I am left with your weight
on my heart, your scent
crowded along the edges
of my body, teeth rattling,
breath heaving as I am gasping,
trying to fill myself full
of what memories I have
left of you
before they fail me.

Forget You

This is the moment I'm afraid of,
the slide of the train derailed,
my breath a white gasp
against my teeth
as I run my body down into the sidewalk
in an attempt to fling myself
into your arms
before you shatter away from me.
I have the blood of your heart
in my ears
and the beat of your body
on my tongue
as I attempt to kiss
our relationship away from my skin,
peel your lips clean
from my hair, gag and swallow
your scent below the level
of conscious memories
of this day.
I'm crying and praying
to forget you.