Meditations on bad breakups.

The impossibility of getting used to  
waking up without your letters on my screen  
before I let the agitations of the day grip me.  
To come to the kitchen and peel little balls of
lamentations for breakfast, and face the silence
of not hearing you asking what kind of coffee I like.  
Lover, I must confess,  
I can never really relate to your sophistication  
when I would willingly shove  
all kinds of drinks down my throat,  
no matter the stink.  
To tear the husk of toxicity like cotton padding  
from my solitary couch,  
with my late night snacks clouded with oil,  
misting out of my pinprick pores.  
Clean and sharp as pepper  
are all the meals I wished to have shared with you.  
To ease each pale, pink section of my chest  
without your daily craving,  
telling me how you desire my body  
with my heart out of its case  
so carefully, so lovingly,  
without wanting to break  
a single pearly cell.  
To slide each piece  
of hurtful words we exchanged  
throughout the months  
into a cold blue china bowl,  
the juice and tears pooling  
until the whole fruit of affection  
is divided from its skin  
and only then to eat so sweet.  
My discipline, precisely pointless.  
My devout involvement of hands and senses,  
a pause, a little emptiness.  
Each day harder to live within me.  
Each day harder to live without you.
Written by heyycyanides (Joa)
Author's Note
For Omi.
Mood: Let it Die by Feist
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 7 reading list entries 3
comments 7 reads 241
summultima Ahavati Tallen
Commenting Preference: 
The author is looking for friendly feedback.

Latest Forum Discussions
Today 9:52am by dejure
Today 9:38am by Ruby_sunday
Today 7:45am by Bluevelvete
Today 4:28am by Blackwolf
Today 3:52am by Bluevelvete
27th July 2021 00:18am by Ahavati