pomegranate

i dont see your ghost in the mirror. he doesnt knock down picture frames, he doesnt leave broken dishes. he lives in my ribcage, in the way my stomach sinks. hes a reminder of everything wrong with me. my broken, unlovable body. my unrepairable soul. hes a parasite, a disease, something unforgettable. he eats me from the inside out, grey matter on his fingers pulling my intestines. he leaves blood; its yours, its mine, its ours. its no worse than the years i spent with you and it still makes me want you back, because obsession isnt love. its how i spent my days and nights without anyone else. how every tear was for you. how you ruined me, how you took my everything and gutted it because i gave you the power. how i spent everyday in a lie. how we became each other, one in the same. because isnt that what lovers do?

ill never love the same, but you already know that. no x or o, clandestine.