Every breath of mine is reminscent of your loss,
loss that spilled from your veins and bruised your skin,
the loss that hid beneath plastered strength like encrypted consolations
and misplaced sorrows,
the loss that danced like flickering street lights upon your tear stained face.
And with every breath that I take,
I’m reminded of the very same loss
that slaughtered their empathy,
and fractured your innocence,
the loss of those calloused hands that drew circles upon the back of your hand, permenantly branding them with an eternity of sacrifice.
And they can replace misery with mirth,
Tears with happiness,
Your endless lows with a plethora of variant heights,
All to their pleasure.
But how can they replace the raggedness of my breath,
that is still dominated by an expanding fear,
that still holds witness to all injustice,
the decay of her worth,
the endless loss of her soul,
and the gravest of all,
the collapsation of a life.