I thought If I shook hard enough, I could muster one drop of closure from the pail of unanswered questions you left at my feet. But the pail was empty, like the reassurances I tried to tell myself prior to the fire. At least today I felt the weight of the can of gasoline lessen in my tired hands. The callouses of repeatedly spattered pleas continuously reminded me of the ill-attempted grip I tried to place on you. They wore into my mind as I tried to screw the cap back on my thoughts, ever boiling and keeping me awake to stoke the fiery remains of the shed.
You asked me to join you for a run, as if the routine we used to have could still function while missing a few pieces. I told you I was unsure; I couldn't risk jumping into a sinking pit with your hands around my ankles. If I stood still enough I wouldn't disappear too fast in the pool of heartache you invited me to. You were trying your best; I could tell in your attempts at making me laugh. This was the most mobile I had been in a few days, but the runway looked too foreboding for me to take off again. The sky was still clouded with smoggy remains of periodical text messages telling me how much you loved me. Simply looking at the puffy memories make me choke.
"Hey.
I love you.
Just so you know."
"I'd just pull you closer.
Kiss your face good morning.
Make sure you know I love you."
It sickened me how easily I could remember.
