self-contained

i ask too much of you –
the body, and the ego are both wounded,
soon to be casualties; all because i could
not temper myself, a self-explanatory
crime scene. the ego is the first to go,
and i'm no longer myself, the body
exits stage left – there’s only you left,
unmarred, and i only ask:

did i matter enough to leave a mark on you?

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another napowrimo poem i did not post here.