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The Worth You Left Behind


Before I Left

You left cuts on my lips.

You left bruises on my thighs.

You left tatters on my blouse.

You left fingerprints on my jaw.

You left tangles in my hair.

I left blush on your button down.

I left lipstick on your neck.

I left mascara on your collarbone.

I left hair on your sheets.

I left tears on your pillow.

What I left was erasable, washable, and easily rid.

What you left is burned into my skin, branded into every memory of the seasons.

I can still feel your fingers harshly tracing my outline. But I can also feel myself growing stronger.

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