WRECKAGE

Sifting through the wreckage
Of yesterday’s meltdown
Like returning to the scene of a crime

The last of me
Outlined in chalk
Thoughts of her
Still running down my cheeks

Scars on my arms
No hesitation cuts
Each wound precise
Every gash deliberate

Her name
Carved into my chest
Just over the heart
Slashed in phlebotomic shorthand

My vacant eyes
Reflecting her
Searching for her
Reaching for her

Eventually I will stand
Covered in dry blood and dust
Cigarette burns and rust
Loneliness tinged with bitter sorrow
Only to fall apart once again tomorrow.