You don’t belong here.
No reflection of you in my photos,
Of you standing in front of the glass,
The one behind me,
So thank you for your kindness,
But stand at an angle that keeps you out.
No depiction of you in my story,
As a hero, a saviour or a god,
The one who helped me be me,
So thank you for participating,
But remembered only as a passerby.
No inscription of yours on my heart,
The telltale sign that you touched me,
And left the mark that you made,
So thank you for loving me,
But linger as a memory, not a scar.
No prescription of you for my pain,
You were my medicine,
Were, past tense,
So thank you for the high,
But I am well now, I found my healing.