diamonds are never

bruises are there to be pushed. they're impromptu scars the colour of sky preparing for rain. a reminder for a week or so that something pressured that area of you so much it stained. you're like a bruise. you know, you left a little patch of the remnants of popping blood tubes under my skin. and then you faded away. and i didn't cry. my heart didn't start flopping out. no tears juiced up. you were easy to throw away. later, it was anger that fell out of my mouth. but it all landed on the carpet and spiralled up in a vacuum. dust is all it was. just particles. and i can't help it...but now and then i miss you like crazy. and i have these thoughts i try not to document but always do. and eventually they fossilise and get discovered and dug up and polished and re-assembled so some kind of exhibition will have relics. so push my bruise. push it. hard. so that pain starts tumbling out of my eyeballs and washes down the plug hole...