Damn you

Damn the one.
He left my heart black,
like an old pan
where any kind of love sticks.

Everything burns.
Everything fades.
Everything tastes the same:
of gray ash,
of molten iron.

Damn you,
who left all the plates
half-eaten
and unwashed.

No one wants to dine with me now—
their meal
served over yours.
Everything tastes
of what you left behind.
Everything reminds me
of what you once asked for.

Forever damned,
for leaving the coffee
half-sipped.
And now—
how do I explain
that I poured it all
for someone
who never meant to stay?

Damn you. Damn you.
Everything I cook,
eat,
and drink
tastes like the half of you
you dared to give.
Not even whole.
Not even full.

Damn me,
for thinking
you were too much for me.
Damn me,
for though I could buy
a brand new pan,
new plates,
new cups—
I still wait for your fragments
at a table
set
for one.