You treated me

The way a paintbrush treats the water it is dipped in.

You wanted me

Only when you wished to erase a part of yourself

And I’d willingly undress you-

render you bare

and raw

and as palpable as you were when we first met.

I’d absorb your colours

And feel them rise inside of me

Like a hurricane that you falsely convinced me

wouldn’t cause any destruction.

I’d let your flaxen hair brush my surface

And set goose bumps on the skin beneath my ears

Like fireworks that I hear you’ve been painting on flesh bathed in canvas.

I’d let you take as much of me

And as frequently from me, as you liked

Until I became so saturated by your effusions

That I stopped being good enough

For you to come visit anymore.


Now I, hackneyed by your glorious discharges

Spool down the drain,

Carrying the flowers that littered your hair

Like ashes from a cremation ceremony of murdered eternities.

And I hope when you rinse our home

Off all shades of me

You’ll find someone else

Who’d fill up for this warrantied exchange.


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