Tag: moving on

Miss Scarlett In The Ballroom With The Lead Pipe

wingedpiglets:

I washed the sheets four times (once
for every year you dreamt beside me)
before your smell
no longer lingered. 

I deleted all of your
voice messages on my phone, but
they still replay 
in my dreams some nights, and
I will always know your texts by heart. 

I put all your clothes I gathered over the years, tangible
bits and pieces of you, into a garbage bag
and donated them, but 
I still wake up on cold mornings wishing I had 
that black jacket of yours. 

I tore apart 
every picture of us, and still 
it took me too long to be able to 
convince myself there was no missing
half in all those photos of just me. 

I have flipped it so many times, and yet
I cannot get the imprint of 
you out of my memory
foam mattress. The outline of your body
etched in chalk on a crime scene.

i can
put you in my
back pocket now.
you’re so small;
you fold so easily.
i can forget you
in there and run you
through the wash and
watch your face fade
because
you don’t mean anything to me
anymore.

this is what happens when the only presence you have in my life is your picture in my pocket // a.s.m

while i slither out from
under the covers
below the black
sky that sparkles like diamonds in the light
and start jogging along the dirt
path at the end of your driveway,
you are dreaming
of your childhood dog.
everything in life seems a little brighter
after it’s gone.

i pull my socks off
my feet and push my toes into the dust.
i miss being dirty, i miss
the earth.
a cartwheel– the first time
my hands have touched the
dry ground in so long.
i am a child.

i pull off the scarf
around my neck,
the one you gave me
for my birthday last year, and
let it drop behind me.

i rip off
my white button-down shirt,
my black pants, my boxers.
i am free, falling
to the ground, melting
into the earth, i am clean
i am clean.

i am running, loose,
in the opposite direction
of your house. i am running into
the full moon.
tomorrow you will be
in my past life.
soon this, too, will seem bright.

running away from you, running towards something i’m not sure of yet. // a.s.m

your hands 
on the outer walls of a mountain 
you are about to climb into,
dig your hands within
the soil. feel her move
beneath you,
hear the wind scream his name. 
hear it echo in the distance,
hear it slowly begin to fade.

climbing mountains // a.s.m

your name on my tongue 
(the only fruit i will not eat)
is overripe,
no longer sweet– past it’s prime
and overdue– 
my heart no longer aches for you.

your name on my tongue doesn’t taste like anything anymore // a.s.m

there are no words that i could write
to fully repaint that summer night:
the grass deep green, the sky blood red
the thoughts of death flooding my head

the ghost of your warm hands in mine
mem’ries of green eyes and lips of wine
the only thing i wanted to do
was tangle myself back up in you

i sat and watched the city lights
the day slowly melting to night
the way the moon shone– like your face–
drowned the city lights in grace

you left no beauty when you went
my mind gone numb, my heart left spent
i lost control, then came the tears
alone with all my greatest fears

those tears i shed, the guilt i felt
can’t change the cards that i’ve been dealt
and with each step your face will fade
one day i’ll breathe without you, unafraid.

it’s true, i still think of you: but i am getting stronger without you and soon you’ll fade // a.s.m

i’m not yours to keep
wriggling between fingers
that grip so hard. 
drooping
wilting
pulled out of my vase
for too long. 
why this famine? 
your touch is no longer
gentle, no longer
soft. 
i’ve had enough. 
line the streets with
my fallen petals and
when the wind blows, watch
them spell my name.

i am stronger now // a.s.m

i tried, i tried
so hard not to
step on your toes, even though
sometimes i felt like
you’d intentionally poke them out
under the crack of your door to see if
i might do it anyway.

i tried so hard to
make sure
you had room to breath;
that when you looked over your shoulder
i wasn’t always there. even though
sometimes all i wanted to do was kiss you.

i let you breathe.
i let you breathe without me.
and i think you realized that
sometimes the air is fresher when you’re alone.

a.s.m

I am so tired of having to try so hard to make you happy, only to lose myself in the process.

If I cannot make you happy simply by breathing, perhaps I cannot make you happy at all.

if you really loved me, i wouldn’t have to try so hard to make you happy: a person who loves you will be overjoyed simply because you are alive // a.s.m