is that when you said goodbye to her again? when you picked up your old bones and moved them back to your side of the bed. you’ve spent nearly two years sleeping where she once slept. laying your body on top of her memory. breathing in whatever is left.
last sunday you’d taken your neat pile of papers and thumbed magazines that had been keeping your side warm and moved them to the opposite side of the mattress. moved them, and climbed back under the covers. away from her, for the first time in two years.
i stayed up all night and cried. kept myself awake all morning, and cried then, too. tried to talk but only made noises no-one understood. tried to write, but wrote confused poems about possession. about dispossession. about the scar on my top lip. once upon a time you lived a love story. and once upon a time, we were all part of that together. and now, what are we? i have spent the last year telling everybody no, so i could always be there to tell you yes, it’s okay. i have cleaned your floors and cooked your dinners and forgot every part of my life that didn’t have you in it. so now, what are we? where do i start to pick up my pieces and put them over her memory? i am not ready to say goodbye to her again. i have spent my lungs breathing her name all around this house.
now i am full of dust. 

  1. bambibeatdown posted this

NIGHTNIGHT by DEDDY