the unbreaking of self.

There's something romantic in the way I didn't shower
for a week after you left me here.
Not because I'm cliche, and wanted your scent to linger
but simply because everything that I cared for
walked away, leaving me with no reason to move.
So I lay here in this bed, writing words that I hope you never find.
because the way I see you in poetry
is the same way I see myself in your presence.
So I leave this here, pretending that you are not something greater.
and I stand up. It's time to wash the way you break me
down the drain.