His scent envelops
swallowing all that is mine
Suffocating me in my space
The place I call home
The space I rest.
In my bed, he resides
In my bed, he spites me
Absent, yet lingering between sheets
Sheets that caress my skin
Folding between flesh
Flesh that once he knew all too well
For him, once I yearned
I once loved and found comfort
Within his sweet essence
Laced with pleasure
Gilded ecstasy
Now sour,
An odor that I writhe in
with disgust and wanton disdain
Why must I be punished?
I tried to wash him away
Pray him away
Burn his memory to an ash
To release myself, my body
From the cruel reminder
That I once, enmeshed
Melded myself to another
Once more
I’ll strip my bed
I’ll wash my sheets with lye
I’ll set them ablaze
And bury the ash along with the memory of him
As a reminder. A reclamation.
That to lie in my bed is a gift
A relinquished gift by him
to which he is not worthy
His presence, In my bed
Will end.
