White

I painted the insides

of my mind white

so that maybe I could erase

the memory of you

but as days

turned to weeks

the idea of your fingers

laced in mine grew

and soon the paint

began to chip

and soon my stiches

began to rip

and I broke apart into pieces

once again

with fragments of my heart

scattered among the shore

and as the salt sunk into my skin

stinging the scars on my soul

you watched with open eyes

then turned around and closed the door

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