makeshift

unfortunate silence 
kept her company 
hanging like rocks from her bones 
she was weighted in place 
remembering his mask 
of charm and stop-lights 
out-of-gear, she clung to his game 

swallowing his morning 
deflecting his true face 
in her self-destruction 
in his self-satisfaction 
she felt beautiful, in disillusion 
her unsuspecting flesh satiated him 

the sleep-tight kiss left it's stain 
on her night pillow 
a reminder of the infection he was 
even while she was off balance 
she felt steady in his presence 
(her antidepressant taken twice daily) 
he was in her system, like addiction 

he tore at her paper edges 
the vine replacing her veins, heart-bound 
sacrificing herself to his misplaced reasons 
he was a cut-throat razor 
and she offered him her swollen mouth 
it was the last thing she had to give 
before he left her empty