I tore your pictures from my walls
cast you to my raging scrawl
threw your tatters to the wind
Glued them back in panicked haste
then ripped them at their seams again.
Churned you in my funeral pyre,
then yanked the pieces from the fire.
nailed you back up on my wall,
but once again
your picture falls
down into a deep divide-
that consumes my heart,
my soul and mind.
Now I think I’ll leave you there-
where i know i’ll always find you.
These memories i bury deep,
regardless of my troubled sleep.
yet in my sweating, seething grotto,
faded pictures rise to find me.
but in that lost and haunted tomb
I slowly, gently
lance the boil
and heal the scarred and swollen wound.