Your Poetic Exorcism

I cook and clean

Watch shows in between

Because it’s hard to write

When I fight instinctually

Against the very thought

Of thinking of you

Yet in my food

I hear your critiques

Echoing from the past, cutting through to the present

In my bed sheets

I see the shape of you

Even when only the ghost of your presence sleeps beside me

And in the films I watch

Characters of you abuse characters of me

Replaying fragments of our strange, twisted history

Until all I can do

Is sit down and write of you

To purge my thoughts of your endless haunting