Bloody Fingers, Broken Mind

C H E C K M A T E

I've been here before.
So many times I've sat in this same spot for so many lonely hours.
My knees bent and legs curled to my body as I pick long dead blades of grass.
Their tarnished dry yellow color reminds me of her hair.
The relentless stormy sky looming above my head reminds me of her eyes—dark and unpredictable.
But if it were to rain, I wouldn't leave.
I wouldn't bring an umbrella just in case.
I wouldn't go under a nearby tree for cover.
I would stay in this very spot, unmoving.
I would not be phased by the small water droplets that fall upon my skin or the heavy pounding pour of the storm.
Because with her I was always ready for the storm.
I had to be, because if I wasn't, I would drown.
A sudden downpour of rain could turn into a hurricane in a blink.
That's how her moods were.
But I wouldn't change it for the world.
Even though I am faking so much, I can't fake my love for her.
Fake smiles,
Fake reassurance,
Fake laughs,
But never one fake 'I love you'.
Rain drenches me from head to toe.
Seeps into my skin, and into my soul.
I can still feel her touch.
Like a vestige of skin on mine.
I can still hear her laugh.
Echoing in the deepest parts of my mind.
I can still see her eyes.
Happy with crinkles in the corners.
But all of it just seems fake now.
She's not here anymore, and neither am I.
Everything I gave her might have been fake, but one thing wasn't, and that's what meant the most—
My love.
But she gave me real things like
Real smiles,
Real laughs,
Real reassurance.
But never one real 'I love you' was returned.
It was never genuine.
Said for fun, and tossed around the sheets as part of the game.
The bed was our board,
I was her king,
She was my queen,
And she got the final checkmate.