Wednesday, 30 March 2016

Last night I kept turning your pictures with my decaffeinated eyes.

The night before I spent jumbling numbers, so that my fingers could slide towards a wrong digit out of confusion, but the arch of my fingertips is a slave to habit and four years have caused her to get accustomed to the fragility of my heart and I lost my head a long time ago.

The sun sucks blood out of my veins and I am now only skin and body with purple tangible lines. ‘’

Maybe he is fighting too many wars and you are a ticking bomb’’, she says as I swallow empty nights and his maniac silence.

Three months ago, I realized I’m the remnants of bravery and the wreckage of cowardice. My tongue is tainted with words I can’t say, carrying a face carved with my naked heart.

Three months ago, after the sound of seven beeps screeched around the room, I found that I’ve been leaving a trail for someone who would never come searching for me.

Four months later, I am sleeping alone with the summer breeze.

I wanted too much of a relationship that didn’t exist

‘’I am only afraid that you’re going to spend the rest of your life seeking the same loss, he will mutter words you want to hear and say out loud the ones you don’t’’ , she said.

Present day, the structure of my heart has changed. Faceless, hollow, pale.




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