Hearts Like Graveyards

had i not met you
i would crumple
collapse into myself like the world trade buildings.
had you not abandoned me
i wouldn't have learned how to rebuild.

my body is a battlefield nations wide
and my heart a graveyard.
sometimes, in the dead of night
the ghost of you haunts me.

but i need to remind myself
that we cannot wake the dead.
that no matter how much we've loved what once was,
things change and people change
and i will not let you drag me into the depths of the earth,
clinging onto my last breath with a smile on my face,
as if you're some kind of oxygen.

this is detox,
i tell myself.
that you may live in my bones and occupy my heart,
but you are no good for me.

i write about you to keep you alive
and wonder about the stages of grief,
because their occurrences are like pennies in a wishing well,
and your presence tarnishes the copper of my blood,
leaving me weak,
helpless
and sired to you.

when you went to war you never came back (quite the same)
and i wonder
is your heart a graveyard too?
on the cold nights
i will visit your plot
and remember how i loved you.