The more he speaks
the more I see
If he were me
There would no longer be
Even remnants of this “We”…

“Life is too short…”
he argues.
Thinks to sever
another connection
he deems harms
his…


I silently wonder
Am I next?
as he whittles away
more of the ME from me…

Either way, it’s not fair
how much of me lies there
in the discard pile
Shackled