I was the collateral damage <br />To your moving on. <br /> <br />Your leaving was a bomb <br />Dropped stealthily in the deep of the night <br />And I stood there, mouth wide open <br />Eyes blinded by tears and dust. <br /> <br />You had disposed of me <br />Like you did of the plastic furniture you left behind, <br />Because there was no space in the van. <br />Collateral damage. Clean words. <br />They are simply a description <br />Of an aftermath. <br />They do not show the gaping wounds <br />In the seared pieces of my body <br />The metal spikes jabbed my brain <br />Left splinters in my soul <br />Of broken wings of my being <br />Mouth frozen in a silent scream. <br />I was, simply, a collateral damage. <br />And that didn’t matter much <br />Because you so desperately wanted a space <br />In the bombed-out crater in the ground. <br /> <br />Your leaving was a bomb <br />Dropped stealthily in the deep of the night <br />And I stood there, mouth wide open <br />Eyes full of tears and dust. <br /> <br />I was the collateral damage <br />To your moving on.<br /><br />Aida Santos<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/collateral-damage-3/
