YOU... #

24/09/2012 18:53


I sit at my computer, my fingers tapping away intrepidly on the keys, back spacing every line I write. I throw myself back onto my bed with my face clenched in my tired hands, I never really noticed just how quiet it is without hearing that noise; repetitive tapping. That noise passes time, looks over moments, and erases seconds into hours. The short silence is broken by a hollow sigh escaping my always-shut mouth, as I find myself staring at the ceiling- a plain white ceiling. It almost looks as empty as the sky, but nowhere near as empty as my heart. I turn my head to the left- a ray of sunshine bleeding through a burnt hole in the curtains, it makes me think of you; gentle hands, a comfortable smile, a simple touch, that’s all it took, to take away that light…

I roll over- a brick wall freshly painted, though I can still see the memories decorated on them like expensive embroidery. Each brick seeps with all the words you said, all the promises you made. The promises that broke, one by one, just the same.

Pull the covers over my head; I can’t help to breathe that familiar smell into my lungs, into me. It makes me think of you. I squeeze my eyes shut. As tight as I can seal them. Chuck the blankets off and sit at the edge of my bed, this brings back a memory, and it makes me think of you. I glance to the right, and look back twice at the door- the last time you put your shoes on, spun around, kissed me, and said I was the one for you.

Dusty shelves decorated with row upon row of empty photo frames hold no comfort; theses frames that homed you and I in frozen moments.

Old burnt out candles melted into the wax-mould of a final kiss… and I think of you…

A cold breeze floats through the cracked open window; the air sends chilling, like a blade down my spine- misery, is creeping through the window.

Smoke rises from the spark of a match, choking on the bitter taste of chocolate and red wine. The nicotine coat of greys sits on every surface like a ghost; strangely, this makes me think of you.

A tear drop falls into the palm of my hand; I blink, and clench the tear with all my strength. I squeeze every micro-droplet of water out of that tear until it evaporates into the oils of my skin. Catching my own tears again. This makes me think of you. I tried to braid your tears but every string of regret broke.

Now my mind is splitting with migraine, my thoughts exploding; A smile so sweet, you give me a toothache. Beautiful eyes, maze-like eyes. And, my dear, I am quite aware that I have gotten lost in you. 

I arise and take unsteady stand on my feet, almost falling back down. Throw on a mix-CD, slump back into the crease between the seats. I used to find motivation here, tucked into the couch cushions without effort, with ease. Those small pillows nursed your head, as your chest nursed mine. My ears drowned in your heartbeat. I miss those days… then I hear “I remember when..” and my mind relapses, my body aches with sadness. My soul cries for the grave, my screams beckon and beg for a god I don’t believe in. My chest is weighed down by the stone eggs crows have laid in my heart. I think of you…

I remembered the first we first touched. I remember your delicate fingers running through my hair, pushing it out of my eyes. You kissed my forehead with all the warmth a potency of the sun, then you whispered ‘I love you’ sweet in my listening ear, you thought I was sleeping.

I remember the middle days of autumn, the leaves falling in colours of red and gold, swept away with the rain that poured on me that day. Saturated, standing drenched in the misty lit street, waiting for a change. Then you came with your umbrella and said “there’s room enough for two under here”. We found a park seat and sat there for hours, in the pour of the rain. The sun shone through at it’s down, its glowing rays spot lighting on us at its lowest peak. The rain stopped for that one moment our lips met.

I remember, too, the later days of summer, you spent the day behind the wheel, me by your side; how it always was. Though we did not speak a word, I could see you were choking on your tongue, but you hid it well. Listening to the crackly radio. We drove all the way from Manchester to the white cliffs of Dover. The sun was long lost to the west, the crescent moon sat at its highest peak. We watched few stars fall down, then you pulled me into you, you held me tighter then you ever had before, and I knew it was goodbye. You squeezed every ounce of hope out of my once loving heart, your arms faded to emptiness, as I fell into a black hole of sorrow and pain. The rain fell in buckets that day, the coldest day in summer, the last time we touched.