Pity Poetry

This poem was originally about the way I searched
for your ghost in all of my dusty corners
how I etched your name against the inside
of my skin.
This poem was originally about you and me
how I could never look at anyone else
except through the window of how you looked
when you were singing in the shower.
This poem was originally about the way you
kept me up at night,
how you dragged me out in the morning,
painting me against the dawn.
This is not longer a poem about how your
skin smells
eyes shine
fingers play in the folds of my clothing.
This is a poem about the boy who will
try to fill the cracks I cut through
your heavy-drawn curtains.
The only one who was able to let light
into your life, the one who helped you
SHINE.
This is a poem about the men who will
touch you and wonder about how
my finger felt against your skin,
what lines I traced into your back
with my nails.
This is a poem of pity,
for the boy I leave behind me
to dance between the lost sentences
and the barbed wire pitfalls of what
we may have whispered.
This is a poem for the creature
that will fester in his heart,
and the doubt that will nibble at the back
of his mind
wondering if I am truly the monster you speak of.
This is a poem for the boys I leave behind
when I am long gone and have re-learned
how to smile without you.
This is a poem for the boys,
who will forever compete with my ghost.
I'm sorry.