Every time I think of her
an abundance of "i should have's" settle in my head
clenching inside my heart
and busting through my skin like a rusty knife that won't cut clean.
My skin becomes ice when I think
I should have kissed her, I should have kissed her with all the love
I had to give.
I regret every moment that begged for me kiss you
and I didn't
because I can't feel the pain of missing the taste of your mouth.
My hands become the leaves of a tree shaking
as the wind of your absence takes over my body.
I think
I miss the way our hands fit so perfectly, like they were meant to rest
against each other.
I remember they way your nervous hands were always
startled when my hands found their way to yours.
I still reach out sometimes
and pretend that you, too, miss me they way i miss you
and more than comfort, it brings me
more pain than I asked for,
but the sick thing is,
I welcome it with tears in my eyes and hands shaking
like an old friend.
My eyes become the ocean we so longed to explore
when I remember how the nearness of you
made me melt away onto your hands.
I think
I would give anything, anything at all, to feel her skin
against mine again, because i'm slowly dying,
freezing every second passing,
knowing she's slowly drifting farther and farther away from me.
I haven't felt warmth since July,
and i'm petrified i'll be permanently stuck in this
undying, incessant winter.
2/17/15
12:37 p.m.
YOU ARE READING
we were calamitous
Poetry"you and i were meant to collide like silken streaks across the velvet sky, we were meant to burn burn burn and rise up again from the ashes."
