Fragments of you are still with me. Tiny little needles swimming through my skin. Digging themselves into me. My body rejects every single one, every lie and even every smile that came from you. My skin is tougher, dry, shredding away layers of your words, your eyes. Nothing is sweeter now than the hollow air, keeping you away, keeping me away. You mail me your stories attempting to grasp me- but there is nothing to reach, every single letter unread down my garbage can along with all your other tales. It no longer distresses me, your words come with the wind, touch my cheek and make their way back to you, back to nothing, emptiness. I am at ease. I am happy. And the only thing that may worry me a bit is that I am even happier knowing I have scraped you off my heart, far. Stay far for even when you are near you will now remain a stranger, someone I never knew, a stone in my shoe that is no longer there. A cold shiver that will scurry along back with the wind, far off. And I like it there- far.