Pink Thread

wingedpiglets:

You wrapped your finger around the loose end
and pulled and pulled and pulled until
it broke;
an absentminded afterthought
hurriedly shoved into the armrest of my car
on your way out.
The hemmed end of your shirt left frayed and
blowing in the wind as
you walked away;
a sad reminder of how it used to be before
it’s innards were pulled out.

Weeks fall away and it still sits there—
the small ball of pink thread;
the mark of your territory on my heart.
The last piece of you. The only thing
holding us together.

I Loved You Like

i loved you like taking
showers in the rain and rolling
in mud. like jumping in
puddles.
like skydiving, cliff jumping, squishing
three people and some swimming noodles
on a moped with one helmet.
like exploring the jungles
in your eyes.
like running through
the forest barefoot.
like cutting the sole of my
foot on a piece of glass, like
continuing to run despite the
bleeding. like the infection
that developed afterwards.
like the scar that remains.

Black Lodge

Words
toss and turn
in my mind, sleeplessly
trying to realize the truth of what
we were. There is distortion

in the movie
that plays on repeat in my head.
Sometimes the actors change
the script slightly, and
like a game of telephone, the verity is
gone.There may be no truth
remaining in my reality. I
turn and toss
in my bed, hoping to reveal what
we were. Hoping that
the script was based on
a true story, that this was
not a mindless twisted obsession. That
the waves within me which I have
worked so hard to kill were real
in the first place. That
I loved you, once.