the roots grow longer
each day,
only knowing
to head downward
and hitting
bottom, they may curl, confused...
recognizing
limitation.
and i am wrapped
up in a strangling darkness
a painting
of my own creation...my magnum opus
only knowing
to head downward
in search of
warmth, the comfort of familiar sadness.
a tracing image,
a freeze-frame of naughty photos,
the lingering
scent of the last physical remnant of you
the one thing
you overlooked when you ripped yourself,
tore yourself,
erased yourself from my heart.
only knowing to head
downward,
back to hell,
we meet again.