I can’t seem to remove the violet of your lips from my bedsheets.
Your fingertips remain to be the paintings my skin refuses to shed.
The imprint of your thighs linger around in my mind,
I can’t seem to shake the shape of our hands intertwined
Double takes won’t replace the broken and battered lace who we were is trimmed with.
I can’t erase the places I’ve been through you …
My recollection is me holding on to pieces that should be mine to claim.
At night the heat we are created in is … violent.
No longer sweet treats within delightful melodies,
Where have we gone?
Cause I can only find traces of you and me here.
Yet can’t even shake the thought that it’s time to stop pretending.
This happy song was not supposed to have an ending ..
Bittersweet, to feel the defeat that lies mute between you and I.
We weren’t supposed to let time stop us,
And yet ever so consistently the sand slips between our fingers
Falling into the bottom of your hour glass.
I’m so tired of being in between this makeshift reality of you and me
Just let me lay here.
Just let me lay here and find truth despite the insecurities.
||Let me lay here and find my way back to you.
Freelance writer: poetry, spoken word, playwright, screenwriter. Here to share the writing that frees me on a day-to-day basis.