Yard Sale

Everything must go
For it is out of touch
Nothing here seems to be mine
And the bits that seem , are not
The swollen pride
The rash mind
The device that was me
The sight that held me
The warm glow of love
The cold bite of lone
The wish to be alive
The desire to die
The gentle kiss of your eyelashes on my cheek
The frenzy of your lips on mine
The time of meet
The parting
The past , as we knew it
The present as it presents itself
The future rain drops
The waft of mountain fog
The acrid smell of pain
The little joy that remains
All of it must go
Only , to win you over once more
For it seems like an eon has passed
Though just two days
Here I am, wanting to wilfully breathe again