Kate Jane Villanueva
Media Staff

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.