To Be a Pillow and a Sheet
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- Parts 1
MatureOngoing7m
Last published Mon, Dec 31, 2018
The dull light from our past still lingers like days old honey oozing down the side of the knife. I felt for you, the pillow still fresh with new linen. Tears well and embracing the aching silence the sheet weaves itself around my naked soul clinging like a life raft in raging seas. What do we need when we stop and taste the new day without the hustle of slaving for money? You. By. My. Side. But when I face the silence echoes of your voice reverberate in my space. Where are you when I taste the darkness once again ...
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Loving him was the cruelest kind of torment-a love that lived in the shadows, one that could never bask in the warmth of the sun. I was nothing more than a stolen moment, a whispered name in the dark, a secret he tucked away between the life he had built and the one he wished he could have. I knew, deep down, that I was a fracture in his story, a fleeting escape from the weight of his reality. And yet, I still clung to him, to the illusion that for a few precious hours, he was mine. But the truth was relentless-it came in the form of unanswered texts, in the way he dressed hurriedly after loving me, in the way he said her name with the same tenderness he once gave me. I had given him my heart, knowing he would never be able to keep it, and yet, I loved him still. Loved him as I watched him walk away, loved him as he returned to the arms of the woman he truly belonged to, loved him as I drowned in the loneliness he left behind. Because no matter how much I wished it to be different, I was not his home-I was just a place he visited before going back to where his heart truly lived.
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