poetry

breaking into a thousand pieces

it’s not what you did it’s that you did it at all

how you dissected me into beautiful fragments

of my soul.

no one else could do it like that

you took the best parts of me

and showed them to myself.

all my self-doubt drowned

at least for a bit

until they resurface

when i’m naked in the bath.

you clutched all of me

with your tight grasp

and morning mantras.

how is it possible

to love like this?

to hate like this?

you will go one day

like everyone before you,

but for now

you can complete

the parts of me

that drowned.

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