I am NEARLY done with you, -as we are done with all eventually.

Who is gonna tell me when it's time for no more
itching, scratching, bleaching,bleeding?
Just when the cuts seem to be fading
I discover tiny roses of blood dripping from holes
between legs, from ears and from pores,
making the clean white sheets blush.
When is it time to end the internal bleeding,
this private miscarriage of you,
the blood thorns piercing my only chance of normality?
Tell me why you can't see the way,
Tell me where's our maps gone!
This town is too easy to get lost in, and too small to forget.
We are both in this maze,not ever crossing our paths again,
and now as I am passing bars and cafes I discovered with you,
and see that morning still comes every day
with new faces, new encounters taking the seats we once had
under old embracing chestnut trees,
and I am thinking of you as a burden I could let go of,
I realize that somehow I still envy those chairs and tables
for once having been touched by our skins, a dream of
togetherness,
and I am wondering if all my love,my pain,my life
will vanish just as simply as our traces were erased
with the last empty bottle.