Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Hewasminemoon Jun 2014
I'm wearing the t-shirt you left.
It was stuffed in the corner of my room.
In a small space between the bed and the wall.
It emits the scent of your skin.
And embodies the softness of your hands.
It reminds me of how your arms don't begin to tan until just below your elbows.
I fill my palms with it's fabric and breathe in deeply.
I think I can smell sweat.
It rested on the bridge of your nose last night.
Dripped down into your tear duct.
I looked at you as I came into the room, you were laying on your stomach with the blanket wrapping you like a cocoon.
We fell asleep, but occasionally I would wake to the sensation of your lips on my shoulder blade.
I remember feeling something in my stomach.
I remember wishing you would kiss me good morning.
Don't say 'adieu'.
Inspired by Birdy's Tee Shirt https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oM60hSMqIkI&feature;=kp
Hewasminemoon Jun 2014
The gun, gone now.
Empty.
Years now.
The lot behind fences.
Each September in the basement.
On my knees.
A man in the morning.
I flew.
Used.
WARNING.
Only the still outside met the ground.
Why?
I can't tell you.
Hewasminemoon Jun 2014
There is no storm.
There is no expanding.
If you listen carefully you can hear the heart.
Red.
Before me.
Sun.
Blood.
War.
Hewasminemoon Jun 2014
I felt the scratch of your unshaved face against my palm and my hand moved up along your cheek.
Your bones were resistant.
I twisted my fingers.
In the space just above your ears: a thick mass of russet brown that continued around.
I clapped my hand over my mouth and listened to the sounds of you sob.
(No wait, that was me)
I hoped that you wouldn't be sick.
We were in the pitch-black.
This time I pushed memories of a grey cubicle into my mind.
Of the summer time.
The heat only bothered me when we were apart.
La Douleur Exquise.
I don't think there is anything else to say.
We will have to wait six more months.
Hewasminemoon Jun 2014
Kiss me until you taste laughter.
I'm not sure I laugh anymore.
I breathe in deeply, and hope that you can't feel me; shaking.
It's been ages since we've showered
I wiped my makeup and all my insecurities away with a warm washcloth.
That night, you barely touched me.
When I hear words, I piece them together and your face appears in front of me.
When you hear me read, you sit in silence.
I'm hoping that you can taste the sweat I wrung out into this page.
That you see my face wrinkle, and my hands covering.
I've been thinking.
Soon. You'll watch the tide go out with me. I'm hoping then & there; you'll say "be mine"
Hewasminemoon Jun 2014
I left the floor empty today. In hopes that you would come in with a mop and see my body hanging.
Instead - you decided you'd give up on housecleaning.
You were so good.
Everything was always left so spotless & shiny.
I dangled until finally I realized you had forgotten. I untied the knot around my neck and screamed at the sky.
But no one heard me.
My foot tapped.
I left early. So that I could go home to a messy room. I didn't want to do it myself. What if I paid you in pictures? Photographs covering everything.  There was a deck of cards on the table. You never picked them up, not really. Aren't you supposed to be cleaning?
You see? This is what happens when you give up your dreams. I know this was never your dream. But it was mine.
Hewasminemoon Jun 2014
I wish that this man, this mannequin: would breathe.
(That he would kiss me passionately)
I wish that this man, this mannequin: would speak.
That he would call
(I would go running)
Pathetically.
I wish that this man, this mannequin: would show me.
Show me maps of this city
(I could fall asleep)
I know that he is listening.
For all a man (a mannequin) can do; is attend.
I am howling
(the wind wakes me in the morning)
I wish that this man, this mannequin: would stop (collecting)
I have a collection of moments that I let play in my mind
(On a movie screen)
The mannequin has me.
I revealed to him: red wine.
(I'm not sure he see's me)
I wish that this man, this mannequin: would be.
Next page