Crit for crit.

some might call this a mistake-
a lack of judgment, like laughter at a wake,
a stylized remembrance of things better left unwritten.
i can sympathize with their concerns
but this emptiness of being, this quiet, hollow desperation,
like raindrops in the cracks of pavement,
won't let me let it go.

it's been this way since the minute that you left;
you scuffed your shoes on my first floor stairway,
drove your miles and crossed your oceans,
and left me with your whispers and your letters, neat and stacked
upon my bed, unmade and yet
unused in six months, maybe more-
"it won't hurt long" is what you said,
but repercussions never were your thing;
consequences are for other girls,
for people who walk instead of flutter,
who red their eyes, drawn and wracked
with reckless guilt, while your world's
motion stays the same,
rotates calmly in a quiet ring,
axis perfect and unseen,
and you hover in your own perfection
softly humming the refrain-
"mirror, hold back your reflection-
what i cannot see can't give me pain."
I guess it's my fault for failing to specify, but I was thinking of crits in the "more than one word" category, if at all possible. Thanks.