the gentle rumble of the car shakes the metal bottle in the cup holder next to my mom’s elbow. when the asphalt switches to cement there’s a drowning hum that lifts me from my thoughts. must be a bridge.
the leather seats are cold. but I’m the perfect height to take up all the space they have to offer.
slowly as if not at all the black cables through the window above my feet snake across the sky.
below the sun’s reach I’m imbued in being nowhere in particular.
tempted by your words from the past: a light for so long; why didn't it last? a beacon or even a song would not have lost its hold so fast.
to read it again would destroy how far I've come -- and then what? I've worked so hard to feel numb, surrendered through the pain you injected into my veins I refuse to be at war anymore you don't get to control me forevermore.
I want to know: When you run your fingers through your hair, do you think of me? Can you smell the walls sheathed in smoke, or the perfume that bites my neck? When your fingers gently catch the knots of your curls, can you feel the couch beneath you, beneath us? Tangled up together like the strands of hair just behind your ears. And when you tug the waves on the crown of your head, can you feel the sheets beneath your chest, the heat between our lips? When your fingertips massage your scalp, opening and closing ...
The way his hair glistened in the sun. The red patches, right by his temples. He was the sun, to me. He was light - the dawn seeping in through my darkest curtains. He was the warmth left in your sheets that floods over your skin when you crawl back in after a quick trip to the kitchen. We were alone together. So many photos together, but not together. Together but not together. What is it with us, and these opposing forces? Magnets don’t always work two ways. But on the days we were together, so...
i’m feeling weird but when am I not; I feel anxious over nothing but that’s nothing new
why do i feel like the space between me and the world is bigger than space? we’re on opposite sides of a wall but the wall is too tall for me to see over; - it feels like everyone is a sea over. or that’s what I’d shout back over the sea when you eagerly asked “what did you say? you’re too far away.”
i'm trying to get there but my ship is too tattered to take me anywhere but here - i said, "do you think you could meet me...
Her energy was the calming breath of waves. A constant rush in the background I forget until I tune into the back and forth the in and out. I haven’t touched the water in months but I remember what it feels like when it engulfs you and you forget where you end and it begins; for a second you are free. Please god tell me how I can stay here without drowning when will you let me be where I belong how many shells do I have to step on before I can walk on the sand so soft it makes velvet seethe at its existence.
I know it’s been a year. Well, more than that actually, a year and 10 weeks, give or take a day depending on how you cut it. If it's after midnight and the people haven't slept from the day before, is that event of the new day, or the previous day? I haven’t been able to decide. I’ve run out of things to analyze about our story.
It’s been over a year since I’d seen your face. A little less since we've last spoke. For you, it’s been a year and 10 weeks since we’d been in the same area. Truth is, I’ve been in town for a few months. But I guess you’ll find that out if you wanna...