so this is how it ends

my hair falls into my eyes,
soaking in my salty and wet eyes,
as if being dipped in icy ocean water,
a few locks stick to my forehead,
my body shakes violently.

i cry into my pillows,
my stomach crawls,
but not for me,
i mourn for you.

forgotten wounds open,
they haven't been cut by someone,
thoughts of having to slice yours open,
are the sharpest knives,
the weapons most commonly used by my torturers.

so this is how it ends,
both of us bleeding,
i warned you,
i warned myself,
but i guess neither listened.

i may leave this room without a word,
silently stepping over the shards of broken glass pouring out of your chest,
but i want you to know this.

it's not because i don't want to see you,
not because i don't care,
my eyes are overflowing,
i'm afraid if i speak it will waiver and betray me,
i don't want you to worry.

i'm already about to be extracted,
precisely,
but not painlessly,
from this place i've come to know oh so well.

i figure it's not worth wallowing here,
in this puddle of salt water, sticky crimson, broken glass, and self-pity.