Recovery

Haunting Of You

It's been a few months since you told me you didn't care about me. Memories of your hands on my thighs and lips on my neck have engraved themselves upon my mind just like the image of my sweet grandmother's tombstone. I wish I could shut out the images of us the way I shut her casket —- How do I mourn the loss of you when you aren't even dead? The ghosts of who we once were won't stop haunting me.

I stumbled across an old photograph of me blowing out my candles on my 16th birthday; you were my wish. Little did I know a year later you'd be the one to blow out all my dreams.

Do you remember the night when I was crying a river of tears and I told you I wanted to die? You called me on the phone and whispered "It's okay, everything you feel is temporary." I should've known the way you felt about me would be temporary too.

Your eyes always reminded me of a cold sea but it's not fair because when I was drowning you sailed away and now I'm left with the frozen pieces of who I once was and you didn't even have the decency to lay them out to thaw. 

I trusted you, but when you leaned in to kiss me I could still smell her bubblegum tongue on your breath. People always told me that my first love will never never die and I never understood what they meant until now. You're going to haunt me forever, aren't you?