My Body Used To Be Your Home


They told me to go away for a while,
so I can get away from memories of you.

How can I possibly explain to them
that running away will do nothing,
because no matter where I go,
everything will remind me of you.

I gave you the toolbox
and told you to make
a home of my body.
And so you did.

Pieces of you are implanted
in my mind, you carved holes
for warmth inside my bones
and you sail within my blood.

In my heart
you made your bed,
now it is just an empty room
filled with memories of you.

How can I run away from you,
when I carry you inside me.

For all that is left of me is a gallery of you
and a museum of our used-to-be love.