Your Comfort.

Your comfort was a folly, you see

ever-engulfing flames that seemed to exist on the water’s surface like Wildfire glowing ember green

trapping me beneath the horizons line – I’m

drowning.

Your comfort was conditional, you see

so long as my shoulders could bear the weight of you. so long as my back did not curve the blade you left within me. Growing 11 weeks, before dawning black and being expelled from my being.

Your words pulled tears from behind my eyes, and still I stood tall – so you could reach the pedestal you never deserved.

Your love was a farce, you see

the artificial flavors your words left in my mouth demanded a response- repulsion. And

the gaslit apologies you set ablaze at my feet Rob the room of air. I'm suffocating.

The dust has since settled in the place you once stood

absent.

My comfort was scared, you see.

Breaking protocols to let you over my castle walls & providing you with residency in the chambers I held sacred. The desecration left in the wake of your abandonment, glows melancholy blue.

But the sun glitters through the glass, projecting gleaming beads of color throughout. In the mirror,

my reflection moves with me, arms lifting to hold the broken pieces together. Tightening around the shards of glass, bleeding.

I’m sorry. I look over the scars and the wounds. I'm sorry.

My comfort is here, it’s me.

My breath catches, and time holds still for a moment. The air is sweet dripping with honey, and the sunlight washes over my skin

golden - like yours was once.