Burns Poem by TP Sage

It does not take much to take me back.
But the memories do not seem real.
They are almost dreamlike except for the emotions.
Puffs of smoke, unseen but still stinging my eyes.

.......I can see her sitting there, alone
For an instant she is who she was,
but her eyes twitch for a second,
then roll involuntarily upwards
till all I see are the white........

I did the best I could.
Stayed right beside her
when no one else would,
much longer than anyone wanted me to.

.......Her eyes are closing.
A cigarette dangles loosely from her lips,
fire red lipsticked lips........

She took everything I had to give,
wasted it all, and wanted more,
then blamed her sickness on me,
and I believed her.

.......The cigarette falls slowly from her mouth,
a slow motion movie sequence...closeup on the cigarette
as it falls.........

Somehow, I didn't have what was needed
I know now that no one did.
Nothing, short of leaving, would have helped her.
Leaving was the only thing I didn't try.

.......The cigarette settles softly like a butterfly on her pale skin,
unmoving,
the dull glow of the cherry
illuminates a tiny patch of ivory flesh.......

That past does not exist for her.
For me it is still a second skin.
I've grown tired of hoping she will see truth
My anger has finally outrun my patience.

.......A lazy snake of smoke,
an almost imperceptible increase to the glow of the cherry tip,
and the cigarette slowly begins to burn her smooth skin.
She doesn't move,
doesn't even flinch.
She is gone.
I can't save her.
Never could........

It does not take much to take me back.
I feel the burns as if they were my own skin.
I wear the scars
If not on my skin, surely on my soul.
Her scars.
The only thing left that we still share.

.......The soft white skin beneath the butterfly has turned pink.
An angry crimson spot has formed and slowly grows.
A burn.
One of many........