You Swore You'd Haunt Poem by Bella S

there's that space
between midnight / dawn
(it always comes blood-wet / wolf-eyed)

and i hate
that we don't talk
like we used to
when it starts.

i breathe alone now.
not tragic.
just/
off.
but the sun clawed her way back anyway,
lined up
with the last
of what i haven't burned down.

shame, really—
the way you vanished:
no heat.
no wreckage.
just silence
that stung like your mouth.

some so-and-so.
you ran
(like a rat
Fleeing my crypt in the
evening.)

i'm not gentle/
where i've cracked.
you knew that.
still—

you swore
you'd haunt
my whole life.
now
you're just friction
in my blood.
just friction
i won't chase.