The collector

Behind his eyes there is a void

I look but see nothing

something must be wrong.

a puzzle piece is missing 

and i can see his frustration 

he cant find it either

so he takes pieces from others

and leaves those that love him

less complete than when they found him.

he is a collector in some ways

of people instead of things

and he uses each 

but gives nothing in return 

except for obliviating pain

but I caught him,

and underneath these fluorescent bulbs 

I will lay out his crimes

and dissect him 

not because it gives me pleasure

and not because he has a piece missing

that I will find

but because I am a collector of sorts too

and he is mine. 

into a tear

I sink into the next layer
with you
beneath the grain
the extract of what is in everything
you me and our fermented sea
calling out the rocky cliffs
eroding into infinity