all that's left

The truth...

The dust has settled

and nothing more can

be done, other than 

to cut the ties 

that keep me here

I want to travel to

Chopin's world, to

lay my fingers on

his precious keys

and speak what

I never knew 

how to say 

I would tell you

how much I loved you,

how much I no longer do

and show you, with my words,

how much I wished I still did 

All that's left is time

to heal this wound--

the stitches are already

in place, but my brain

is all over the wall 

like the splattered

remains of suicide

All that's left is time 

to let these cuts settle,

like ink to paper,

into the crevice of 

my skin, to fade to

pink 

I hope you can forgive me

for not forgiving you

Author's Note