I’m done mourning.
The ceremonial black
that signals the end of a lost cause.
How long before you exit my brain and give me back the completed soul I was before I met you?
I’m done waiting
to live my life as a phoenix does when it rises from the ashes after
all insides and lost hopes.
I’m done hoping
that someone will be brave enough to pick up what you left
broken and unwanted.
I slowly take off this cloak of hurt and
wrap it carefully and reverently.
I’ll use it again.
into a new cloak
and I am