I feel like an empty carcass. Devoured. You chewed up my innards and licked your lips—satisfied—then left me there. I was open, waiting for the world to fill me back up; but, life doesn't give to the dead. I stumbled as I tried to stand back up. A skeleton. I've got good bones. If this is me now, if this is all I am, is that enough?
I am a triumph—I think.
I thought too much and that was the problem. The clock worked its rotation and my thoughts were poised with every tick of the second's hand. As much as I thought, the thoughts were never mine. I was a landfill. One man's trash wasn't treasure. And then it became two. Then three. Then more. What was hidden beneath the masses of their discarded worries was a mystery. Pushed aside for what felt like eternity, I was deep in a slumber.
I am awake now—somehow.
I know I did this to myself. At least, that's what you'd tell me. You'd go on about how it was all my fault. You made me believe that my love was a burden. I was burdened. I wanted to flourish but the flowers died beneath the first layer you cast. I tried to leave but you were always there. It piled on. It grew. I was somewhere. Lost.
I am here now—finally.