Aftermath's Dyad

Part 4/6 of "From Emerald to Hesa", a collection of poems and artwork paired together, started about 1.5 years or so ago. Figured now was as good a time as any to wrap them up! So, the poem for this piece:

It curls up into a ball of burnt fur,
And takes up all the space in my chest
At least I know that with it there,
I'll never be alone

What we had was built from the inside-out
We shared all our deepest secrets first,
And never shared the simple facts
This is where that gets us

you dipped your toes into the bay
when I was still a time-sensitive ghost
you never had to tell me that you shattered the surface,
but you did,
because you were too weak to survive the guilt

I'll gather all of the meaning
And store it safely in piles and hordes
We can bury the hatchet, but I'll have to mark the spot
In defense
If the day will come when I need it again

Hide me from him,
But my shadow’s soaked in you like a tattoo
Was I not worth saying 'no' for?

And I don't need your fucking help to dig deep,
To find disgust in bitmaps and filters

I don't want to get back,
I just want to get out

I am going to bastardize the words
I once considered to be sacred
turns out no one else thought the same,
so I will feed the thrills

Peak, peak, cave in again, it’s addiction’s grip
I’ve made myself numb to inspiration

Your spotted cousin has come back
To Our old hiding place the past few weeks
And I'm waiting for the chance to get her in a bear trap,
Overkill
As it is, to take her home and give her love
Then tear something more important than her heart
From her ribs

I have the chemicals
To ease this shame,
My filmic strips
Just millisecond images,
A distorted breath

And why should I leave the light on for someone
Who can't even tell me she's coming back?

I’ve lived with blasphemy of recovery
I survived it then, I’ll do it again

that small green dot
By your name was what I looked for every day,
like that great icon of longing

Who could have thought
That the pet would carry the abandoning
In her mouth, right to the master?

Every morning that I get on the train,
it draws the skyline like a curtain
streaks of color without shyness,
and I know you're out there

but it's time to let all of the guilt go,
To allow the anger its way out
And serve its caustic will once more
before the cleansing comes

It's okay to have to do this on my own,
Because we have the memento stored here

The truth has never set me free,
and I'm wondering if it would be best
For me to now reclaim my title as the bridge burner
Raze it all,
and reduce our den to ash on the shoreline

This is closure,
this is damnation,
this is all the evidence I could ever need

If I’m ever in the same room as you,
It’s because the degradation of age
Took its toll and enacted its amnesiac agent
Shedding skin,
And all the things I thought I could never change

But I have to remember what I said then:
What’s done is done
What’s done is done