Remnants

This was easy, then.

That May morning, waking up in a shuttered apartment
filled with soft gargoyles,
the scratchboard fractions
of who I was
staring back from a bathroom mirror;

the knowing grins on faces I never knew
or wanted to see again,

swollen pupils easing back into the carrion duties of addiction.

Yes, to exit was easy,
tiptoeing centuries over the bodies.