Collected

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How can I wholly explain anything when I am not whole myself?
You see, you are the thief in this story;
you are the antagonist, the grim reaper,
come to collect.

You were the one to dust off the deepest corners of my heart,
held it up to your mouth and blew your promises, sealed with that smile.
You were the one to bury your name into my mind,
embroidering your face into my memory, wiping my slate clean of everything
but your details.
You were the one who molded me into puzzle pieces, ones that only fit yours,
forbidding me to connect that way with anyone but you.
You were the one who presented me with your prosy comparisons,
“I love you like freshly fallen snow loves footprints. I love you like a songbird in the spring.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you more than stolen glances and more than a drought loves a rainstorm.
I love you more than anyone else in the world.
I love you always.
I love you forever.”
And then
“I love you…less than I love her.”

You came, you collected,
again and again,
passing Go and collecting your $200.
You broke down my walls of “This is the last time” and “This is your last chance”,
and each time you collected more and more of me.
And I trusted you with those parts, my puzzle pieces that only fit yours,
praying that this time would be it.

Because I loved you more than a high school love note,
more than pen loved paper,
more than a simple whispered “I miss you”,
and I certainly loved you more than I loved myself.

The dust has compiled once more in my corners
and my mind has shut down and refreshed itself.
My pieces have now been remodeled
because your puzzle is finally obsolete.





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