Where You Were Poem by Justin Baker

I can not breach the glassy front,
when will I reach the place I thought I lived,
the home I once conjured,
with you in my bed.
The reality you shattered,
with your four fingered stab.
A plastic heart you gave me,
lies beating in the floor boards,
a frosted reality you made me,
rotting away inside.
A hollow apparition,
mocked in your appearance,
I meet it every morning,
it drifts every night.
There's a pain in my chest,
I took the medication,
prescribed to take it away,
yet it's here,
under the frail tissue,
sensitive skin,
you've never felt but bruised,
never had but owned.
This is the place I live,
between the world and your mercy,
while you stick your finger down my throat,
and purge out my innocence,
i'm growing thin with insecurity.
The misery blooms behind my eyelids,
I hold them open,
unmoving.
I wonder what's left for me,
more of this maybe,
no, most likely.
This is where you were,
and this is where i am.