The key that they cut for me is lost.
There are cobwebs because my lungs are exhausted.
That floorboard is a bruise; someone kicked it too hard.
Once I had poetry etched into my brickwork.
Once two lovers loved so hard
that their rhythm was my heartbeat.
I thought I was their world, I started spinning,
but they left. First me, then each other.
Smash all my windows before you leave.
nothing is left to bleed out.