Splinters

I found you in the drawer again

Not wholejust scent and thread

A button loose, a folded sleeve

And all the things I never said

The fabric pricked against my skin

Like you were reaching back

Not gentle, not forgiving

Just sharp enough to crack

I wear the things you left behind

They never seem to fit

The collar chokes, the hemline cuts

Each thread a tiny split

You're not a ghost, you're splinters

Beneath my breath and bone

I try to pull you out at night

But end up more alone

I swept the floor but still they stay

Those fragments from our fall

They hide inside the quiet dust

And rise when I recall

My hands are full of memories

I never meant to keep

They pierce me in my quiet hours

And bleed me in my sleep

I press against the mirror

But nothing presses back

Just scratches where your name once was

And silence painted black

You're not undoneyou're buried

Like needles in my chest

I call it time, I call it strength

But never call it rest

I never meant to hold you

This deep beneath my skin

But something in me splintered too

The day you folded in

You're not a scarI wish you were

You never formed that way

You stayed in shattered particles

That cut me when I pray

And I don't bleed, not outwardly

But inside, I decay

The pieces never left me

They only learned to stay