The absence of you taught me strength.
I had to learn how to pick up the
Shattered pieces of my heart
On my own.
My hands are bloodstained
From the shards
But I feel nothing
Even as the butterflies in my stomach
grow teeth and bite down.
I encage them in my ribs
But their antennae turn to saws
and each bone cracks in half.
They fly around my heart but then
they breathe fire and the ashes fall
onto my lungs, the secondhand smoke
and your cigarettes a cancer,
shriveling them into the black void
you left in this musty home.
I can't breathe.
I can't speak.
But I'm screaming
as the butterflies
fly out of my mouth
away from me as did you.