Crumbs

Ideals crumble like stale cookies
falling from a child’s hand

I follow the crumbs
through the forest
that no longer 
grows trees

Across the butchered land
I march, resolutely, 
back to my toxic habit
I thought I had outgrown

Tiny morsels are all you ever gave me
leftover bits of time 
stuck in the corners of your frown
a quickie while a file loaded -
a bubble at a stoplight -

This is the meal 
my starving soul craves

I know every taste before my tongue dances out
I trace every scar before my fingertips 
even reach your body  

I know how to live in the silence
that you stretch out for days
and in the torrents of words
that you fire at me 
when you’re mad at the one 
who expects more of you 
than I ever could

There is certainty 
in the margins 
I fought for so long
and comfort in returning to 
the pages of this story
still covered in my fingerprints

Ideals crumble like stale cookies
falling from a child’s hand
so go ahead,
burn your palm print on my skin
go ahead, 
leave a vacancy in my heart

I welcome the familiar