Killing Memories

I run distilled water into my fingers and through my hair
to wash away the years of metallic memories there, things I've
tried to grow cold to but it seems I'm only sold to as an
anchor to the floor, as a lock unto a door that could rid me
of him. Why must now I commit a sin and think of the man
I so despise, who brings blood-soaked fire clouds to my
eyes and a dozen lonely tears? The years I've lost  are all I have
of you now Jake, a possession I can never touch, but it gives
me such a rush to think I could push you down the stairs
and into the angry glare of the fire that kisses your pages out
of my book. I look only to you now as a reminder of what will
never be again, and I as I rewrite, replacing you with him, the pages
nearly glow in anticipation of the next stroke. Never were my
words so personal, names to go with the games my failing mind
plays now. Solitaire in the lost and found and I battle my cancer
alone. I don't condone the fear that grows, I only long to know that
I still have hope. That I'll still have him at the end of a storybook
ending. I'm sending my love express and trashing the rest of
this hole of quicksand. You will hold my hand as we drive
home and I'll kiss your fingers. Then those same will linger
on my lips before I ask you to light me a cigarette. Then
we'll find the candle down to the quick, and we'll all
sigh goodnight. Even Jake.