That Thief Desire

I've stolen pieces of you to shove into myself.

Crept through dark corridors, bumping along

Until the scent of your memory burns my nostrils.

Acrid like too-close smoke, what you were stings.

It eats a hole in my sinuses like desire did you

And I am utterly helpless to the pull of it.

.

I dip my hands in the bowl of your drinking glass,

Pull out the words you spat out, and put them in me.

I shove them in all the places you never properly fit,

Then whine at the pain stretching out my soul,

Wondering if this is the act that will tear me in two.

Some day I will have to fall, cuffed and bloody.

.

Fate's curiosity keeps me here, in front of your drawers,

Shoving cologne-drenched handkerchiefs into my heart

Hoping it will staunch the bleed you left me with.

The pieces I've stolen go bright red with the warning

That this will never replenish the gaping hole in my chest.

The sirens are wailing and I can't tell if I'm going to die.

.

I can't tell if it's Death closing in or if you've finally noticed

That bits and pieces of you have gone missing now.

So I shove more and more and more into this hole,

Desperate and hungry to feed this wound inside me.

Because I am many things but the first thief is not one,

That would be you, darling, and your thief desire.