Bones threaten to pierce my skin
though I’m heavier than I’ve ever been.
Clothes hang loose from my once full frame,
now lean with sadness.

What do you say to someone whose insides are strung up on display,
with front row seats to the dissection of her heartbreak?
How do I watch his new relationship blossom
so soon after ours was put six feet under?

If a rotting carcass incites fear
when it chases the living
with its unrestrained contempt,
then I don’t hold the same power
with my lukewarm body and shallow breaths.

I’m a spectacle for a rabid audience,
witnesses to my self-made tragedy,
a withered tree in the peak of his spring.

The voices in my head
found new bodies to echo through,
their pitiful glances say I deserve it.

When our memories play past midnight,
I know I did too.