This bruise comes from the last time
I felt the impact of your indifference.
At first, it was full, like the moon:
then it began to wax and wane.
I could adjust the size of it
by replaying some of our
worst and greatest hits.

This black and blue compass
reminds me never again
to be fooled
by indiscriminate starlight
or 80s songs sung at karaoke.

This purple numbness
on my pale skin
is a road map
to all your faults
and all the times
I turned a knowingly
blind eye.
The blood vessels
just beneath the surface

first ruptured

at the thought of your absence.
Now, weeks after,
the soft tissue
begins to return:
a reminder
to still hope
for regeneration.

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