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Emily Nevin Aug 2013
The first time you knew me, I was wearing a purple silk robe. To this day, you call it a kimono and think I'm so comfortably foreign. I was always yours, and yet never yours. Our futures were mapped out on the backs of our hands, and we watched our freckles trek highways up our shoulders and down our spines, collecting like pools of sweat, the kind that I missed the night I sent you back to your friends. I let you go, and still clung to you. I was a shirt you pulled from the dryer too soon. Your skin held me close, and let me dry, leaving an itchy tight patch on you. I am sorry for never scratching that itch until your skin bled. I should've let my nails dig in until your nerves were dead to my touch, until you couldn't feel anything. Then you would slowly scrape your scabs up, noting the change in shape and texture, until they formed circuits. They would shoot like bamboo up your veins and reconnect your brain to your skin and leave behind no trace of me. You always deserved better.
Emily Nevin Aug 2013
You think you can erase me. You think throwing my glass to the ground will remove my lip stick stains. You think your brain, like rocks, will become smooth if you lay in the gentle waves of a new lover. You think your fingers will lose my prints if you burn them long enough on the fire of your newfound passion.
You think her smell will cloud over mine. You think you can forget I was ever around, when you hold the truth on your skin.
How could I possibly be gone from you if you'll never be gone from me? My mouth shows you to every single person I meet. They can't see you there, they can't feel you with my tongue. They don't know the chip you've left on my tooth. It's not there for them. It's mine.
You pretend I don't know your body like a map. You don't think I can trace the scars of your fingers, draw the gully of your joints, the flat plains of your chest. You don't know a thing.
I'll never be gone. You can cut me out physically all you want. But when night comes, and you're clutching her close, remember me.
Remember me then. You'll feel her body shift, and for the briefest of seconds, you'll know where mine belongs.
You'll catch my scent on a breeze, and call her my name. You can't ignore me. I'll never go away. I know far too much to vanish. It's not over, and I won't let it be over until I've seen you squirm.
She doesn't want you. We both feel it.
See, even if I'm not near you, I feel you. I feel what you feel, know what you're thinking. That won't go away.
You can singe my *******, and you can **** my mementos. You can.
You can't **** what they meant to you. You can't **** what you feel.
So drown yourself in her, and I'll laugh when you roll to my shores, torn apart.
Your skin will sag and weigh itself down with seaweed. You'll have barnacles on your tongue as you try to speak to me. You will tell me, "I knew it was wrong. You will never be gone,"
And I will tell you to hush, and rip off each one slowly, savoring them, making your mouth bleed onto my lap. Your blood will pool around my knees, and sink into my skin, like it was always meant to.
You can't escape me.
Late at night, lay there, thinking of me.
You may have her now,
But you'll always have me.

— The End —