He left this body here for you

      
He left me      
        
dressed      
in black,      
hands bound,      
blindfolded,      
so that I        
couldn’t        
reach for him      
couldn’t look for him;      
       
so that when my      
spine crumbled        
all I could do was      
whisper        
‘don’t’ as I        
heard the door        
pull shut.      
       
He left      
with cruel        
words wrapped      
in kindness        
He told me to      
find another        
playmate      
       
because my soul      
is nonexistent      
and the holes      
in my body        
are a        
universal        
fit.      
       
He left me on top      
of the pillar of        
trash at the end of      
the road so the      
crows could pluck      
out my        
unseeing eyes        
while the dogs        
and the rats      
ate through the      
soft parts        
of my belly        
and chest.      
       
He left      
me      
here      
     
for you      
     
to pick up        
off the floor      
and bury me      
in bed.      
       
He dropped two  
coins on the ground,      
for you to        
tape to my eyes.      
       
They’re the      
only things    
of value        
that he      
left.