The stars paint your smile in the sky every night, and I’m reminded of you and all your potential stored up inside a wooden casket.
I was reminded of just how difficult the human skin is to live in by the way it stretches and scars over every impurity.
Some days I look for you in every drivers seat.
But every inch of you was dispersed in all different directions, yet your woven words were left sewn into my entrails.
You dug your mask out of the box of things you promised to leave behind when you left that guy, and slowly I watched you crumble in avalanches- choking on the disbelief that you would sink into the blood pouring out of all four chambers.
You locked yourself behind someone else’s eyes because you were enchanted by the shivers that ventured up your thighs.
I didn’t die with you, but I’m in that limbo state.
Just when I feel myself dissolving into the air- the sky spits me out all over again.
You had so much sunlight living in your eyes, and since you’ve been gone the only fluorescence left is the memory of your heartfelt laughter.
Some days I can still see the blood coiled around my knuckles, and you on the other end- bandage in hand.
But suddenly I’m followed by the reminder that you never needed me in the direction you were going, down a dead end street.
I feel as though I’m still drowning in sorrow, maybe if I blink fast enough the salt will leave my eyes.
But I’m constantly coughing up water lodged within my windpipe.
Maybe you were smart enough to tie the rope around my ankles as you simultaneously let go of the anchor.
You watched me sink below the ripples, but I promise you can hear my cries carried over every tidal wave.
My feet are blistered from walking on broken eggshells, afraid of every step I take.
Wondering if it is guiding me farther away from you.