Ruins of Fiction

I floated down away from you on a raft made of autumn leaves,
my resolve sloshing clumsily inside a measuring cup.
Leaving was the hardest thing until looking back was forbidden.
You watched me from the bridge we built long ago,
its bricks crumbling down into the river.
Calling out to me with your hand stretched out
and my hands covering my ears,
I continue to float further from the hell that was us.
Remembering the last sound of you,
the collapse of our ruined relationship
splashing into the water with your last words of “bitch”,
your true self always stronger than your fiction.


Written May 9, 2012
Prompt: Mag 116