i played our song tonight
the one you told me about
i remember the december night was cold when we heard it together for the first time
and i remember your eyes searching for meaning in mine
as your hand hovered over my skin looking for minefields
you smelled of coffee and cologne
and i held my breath to stop myself from crashing my lips over yours
did you know then?
that we crossed the finish line before our sprint?
did we ever realise our song was nothing more than radio tune?
is that why we squeezed a lifetime's worth of love into a month or two?
i played our song tonight
and i sang, I sang it so loud my throat begged to rest
I sang it so long the words etched themselves on the white walls
I sang that song over and over till its words lost meaning and the melody forgot itself.
it is my song now.
YOU ARE READING
HYSTERIA
Poesíaand i will ruin you for loving me. and you will love me for ruining you. an attempt to reclaim the madness that defines femininity
