honeybee

In the tapestry of my life you were but a loose string
a snag on the pattern of my being
woven through the years

as i look back at that season
filled with so much passion
but so empty,
like i was a cracked jar
my oil continuously pouring out of me
leaving me high and dry.

I was weaving and weaving
trying desperately to fit you into my story
A plot i thought you’d play the protagonist

Sadistically licentious was our bond
My flesh became yours
My body your temple

was it pleasure? was it love?

what is pleasure? what is love?
It was the house we dwelled in, the tarp to our canopy of affection
that we pulled over us when it rained to keep the water out
that would leak in and defile our home
Home
was what i was looking for when i gave you all of me
was where i needed to be when i let you into the void that consisted of my soul
which i gave you the key to
that i threw away long ago.
It was a locked door in the attic of my spirit
You dusted it off and opened the windows
letting all the sunlight in
until it would start raining again
Because when it rained our souls would drown
without a single life jacket between the two of us.

So your light would flick away from mine.
Did it make you ache, leaving me so?
my body wondered, while another planted lips and fingertips across my landscape
different lips
new fingertips
imprints that didn’t belong to you
or me
anymore

so we fell apart
so our home burned to the ground
ashes to ashes
love to lust
did i ever really love you? or me?
the truth slithers down my spine like a chill
circling repetitiously,
a condescending carousel
my brain, wondering if your heart tore in half
when you realized it was our
final greeting
the last meeting
with our souls still intertwined.
You, the thorn in my flesh
Me, your used-up tissue
The Goodbye
of half of me
the stinger torn from the bee
a loss that should’ve killed me