Overgrown unwashed hair covered my firsts eyes 

A cut on your cheek, careless abandon of image 

Strong hands with elegant fingers, balled into fists at your side 

Eyebrows mashed together, narrowing your defiant gaze 

Bruised lips, Bruised lips, too hurt to kiss.

hurt from forcing words out, that couldn't bear to break the seal 

Cowering shoulders, a flick of your hair, a scratch of your neck 

A comment thrown here, there, a dismissal 

The way you stared up at the sky and glazed over 

As if you'd accepted that there was nothing more for you than this, right then 

Bruised lips, Bruised lips, hard to miss 

the boy hiding behind the words, behind what burned him 

A wish, one thought thrown into the silence 

Answered with a sigh, Your grace was a body part, a vital organ 

Like i needed you to breathe,

When a person is gone but kept alive through hopeful life support 

You held me, when you should have let me go 

My bruised hips, My bruised hips, from where i held your hands too hard

when you were ready to leave, when you were ready to leave me

Your bruised lips have healed 

You don't struggle to push those words out to her 

It's a practised occurrence, a formality, a routine 

In which you, my first, got lost in dates and labels. 

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