All day

I am a wreck

that you could not love,

and did not insist

on an alternative.

Your hands are clean

and your eyes look upwards

and your heart is light. 

And I am weak and small 

and mine is heavy and filled with questions

that never had answers at the beginning,

nor beat resolution in time with my breath.

I am an awkward silence 

that cannot forget

I am alone. 

I am alone.