Because she wouldn't take it

I bent my body
to fit around hers,
but couldn't get close enough
to touch.

Twisted words
to fit her silences,
but the twisting made them
untrue.

Laid myself beside her,
under her,
over her,
attempts to fill her emptiness,
but she couldn't feel me.

Patience
for her promises to break,
but it was mine
that shattered around her feet.

Waited for her
to take it,
to break it open,

but now
a bent body
twisted up in half truths
standing alone in the emptiness
with this bloody beating thing
in my hand
in my left eye
bruised, but not broken,
because she wouldn't take it.