Ashes

I'm sitting on the floor of my bathroom.

The ashtray seems to have disappeared.

Ashes from my cig in the toilet...

Ashes are all that's left

of the me I once was.

My bedroom door was kicked in today.

It won't ever close right again.

Splinters of wood are on the carpet...

Splinters are all that's left

of the girl I used to be.

There's glass on the living room floor.

Shattered when the frames fell down.

My bare feet will find shards of glass weeks after the mess is cleaned up...

I'm sliced by the repercussions of my choices,

years after the apologies were made.

There's cat food all over the kitchen floor.

His dishes are upside down in the corner.

Upside down, scattered on the ground...

It's a wasted mess, just like me.

There's a large hole by the front door.

Too low to cover up with a picture,

I don't know how to fix it myself,

Too embarrassing to ask for help.

Like the mess I've made of my life,

No hiding nor fixing this mess on my own.

That ashtray is still missing.

My shaking hand has crummy aim.

Tears leave streaks in my makeup

as they drop uselessly in my lap.

I slap my leg, the sound of palm biting flesh

is deepened on wet skin.

I like that sound.

The sizzling sound a cigarette makes

when I put it out on my thigh...

I like that sound even better.

Cigarette ashes on the bathroom floor.

Ashes, all that's left of the me I once was.