I don’t know how much
longer I can sleep in a bed
where the left side is cold.
But every night, I follow you down
the path to my dreams, where my
heart feels whole once more.
And as time pulls me back
to the morning light,
I watch these old wounds
bleed all over again.
If tears were balms,
I would’ve healed by now,
and I could finally give you a name.
I would call you my downfall,
my regret, my love.
*Inspired by the prompts:
Gor #brokenheartaug18 Hosted by @whispersofbrokenheart
For #augustloveheals18 Hosted by @serenadingwinds And @gigis_thoughts_
I’m immune to the
cacophony of closing
doors and fading steps.
It’s the silence that
I can’t bear, the stillness
*Double Haiku: cacophony
For day 7 of #augunfiltered
Remember the last time we were together?
I didn’t want to take any pictures
of us because I didn’t want to have
anything to remember you by. It’s not
like it matters. I wouldn’t have a
reason to show it to anyone except to say –
this is what my heartbreak looks like.
In my mind, I like to think of him
as “lost,” because his body is not in
my bed. I know, I know, it doesn’t
work that way. The memories
of him don’t fade in the way
consolations like to tell us –
“he is always there, in your heart.”
Because good god, it is a burden
to know that he lingers, when
I would rather lose my body too,
if it meant it did not ache for him.
For #augustloveheals18 hosted by @serenadingwinds and @gigis_thoughts_
Also for things you want to say to an ex
For day 5 of #augunfiltered
They say it takes 21 days
to break a bad habit, yet
here I am, on day 202, my
mind and my heart are still
convinced that I need you.
202 days since I told you to
stay away from me, and I’ve
regretted it every single day.
202 accounts of whiplash,
of missing you like oxygen.
202 days of wishing I’ve never
had you. Then I wouldn’t be
reminded of you every time
I touch someone else.
I have made a sport out of confusing
the chronology of discovering you,
forgiving you, anticipating you,
and forgetting you. I have to accept
the fact that it’s over, and it’s time to
stop dragging your shadow like a
carcass around my shoulders,
thinking you’re still with me,
when you’re just a living memory,
still attached, umbilical.
Tell me again how you
are all jagged edges and
shattered glass, squeezing
every ounce of my fire,
bleeding lies and refracting
light, beautiful to look at
but impossible to trust.
For #artlixirpoetrychallenge hosted by @artlixirpoetry.
Tell me again
For #julyfalls18 hosted by @breath_words_and @a_sea_of_words_.
For #brokenheartjuly18 hosted by @whispersofbrokenheart.
And I will never understand
why our hearts respond to
new love by remembering
the last love that hurt us.
*Or defense mechanism?
Before morning comes to steal
the night we spent together,
I hug you closer, tighter, hoping
that time slows down to accommodate
our moments of quiet contentment.
But you were staring at the ceiling
and holding your breath. I know
what’s about to happen. I hate that
I do, but you say it anyway:
“You know how badly I want to be
with you, but I’m with her, this
can’t go on, this isn’t real.”
How nice it must be that you can
turn me into a ghost, how nice
it must be to dictate reality,
but you’re wrong. I am very real.
And so were we, for a moment.
It has taken me this long to realize
that my body has a hard enough time
healing itself without me breaking it
to completion. Yet my instinct is still
to throw my stupid heart under moving
trains, never satisfied to let leaving
things go without tearing me apart.
I have made a sport out of confusing the chronology of discovering you, forgiving you, anticipating you, and forgetting you. I have to accept the fact that it’s over, and it’s time to stop dragging your shadow like a carcass around my shoulders, thinking you’re still with me, when you’re just a living memory. Still attached, umbilical.
*For #mayfalls18 hosted by @breath_words_ and @a_sea_of_words_