When I reel out the memory,
it lingers in the corners of
my eardrums.
All the things you said, crowd
the space in the precision of
my breaths.
Deceivers like you are ever-changing,
always finding new ways to play
the game.
So I hope another contestant comes
along with words deep enough to
swallow a femur in one breath
that your voice succumbs to soft
corners.
Rips open your heart, fingernails ragged,
belly soft, and leaves you in
an anguish so unrelenting that you
can't breathe.
To know what it's like to
be bewildered by incessantly changing moods.
Your nervous system fracturing a heart
valve just to save what's left
of you.