Only the atrophied animal sleeping at your ankles. No need to chain me to the bedpost. Every seduction needs only the smallest of aches. Every concession: my shoulder tapping your shoulder. My teeth tapping your teeth. Call me your error. Call me your stray. Know that I am more than my heartache. More than my strangeness, more than my arms tied up together. You can't fix something broken with something else that's broken. Empty bucket. Spineless bird. Although you now know me like a nightmare and undress me with your moonlit mouth, I know it's not enough. Sometimes everything works out. But no. It doesn't. Please don't do that thing anymore. Please forgive me. For this and for everything else that's coming. And believe I never meant to let you tunnel into me like that. The way love twists into a heart, mercilessly. And keeps twisting. I believed you when you said you would not be gentle. I just thought there was nothing left unbruised when we met. Only my threadbare heart crawling with larva, brimming with ghosts. I thought I could take it. But then we got quiet. Eventually, I opened my mouth. Call me your downpour. Call me your death. That night, I know I dragged you through the gutter of this. How could you refuse me once you'd turned me over. Once you made me your sorrow, your specter. Your spiral staircase. Your cistern full of pond water. When you said do this and I wanted to. I would live here for another year just to feel like that again. A sharp grip around my wrists. Cool breath like bee wings up my spine. But now all I feel is the vacuum of your egress. Believe me I have enough grief to flood the basement. And enough regret to burn the house down. Tell me, what could stay upright in the aftershocks of this. Even my doorframe is now a skewed and haunted thing. So everything broken keeps breaking. And we can't take the bones out of our bodies. I can't unsay that I loved you. Now that you're gone, the moon follows me home. Call me your aimless. Call me forgotten. Call me your fuckup, your weakness, your garbage. Your favorite aberration. Tell me I'm nothing. You refuse to dismantle this, so I will. If it's harder to unlove a thing why didn't you just leave me there that night on the porch to whimper and crawl up the steps alone.