You.
You weren't the first thing
on my mind
when I woke up this morning.
My eyes fluttered open,
and for the first time,
in a long time,
my thoughts didn't
automatically float to you,
as if on cue.
I fear you're fading from my memory,
one soft kiss at a time.

i.
He stands at 6'8" --
the tallest man I know.
With his deep green eyes,
large calloused hands,
and a gentle disposition,
he's seemingly harmless. . .
That's what I had always assumed,
until the other night.

ii.
I was playing guitar
in my own little world,
happy,
and was abruptly shaken out of it
when he screamed,
"I'm going to smack the crap out of you",
and went plodding downstairs.
Immediately, an image of my mother flashed into my head.
My mother
My 5'4" mother,
with her shiny hair,
fragile hands, and beautiful smile,
being clobbered by her husband.

iii.
Part of me knew that he
must have been yelling at the dog,
but that image was more than enough
to make me realize what he is capable of.
My subconscious must be displaying the
Faults
of my perception.
  

*How strange.

You used to make such beautiful music --
both with your voice and your violin.
Your long, spindly fingers knew just where to press down
onto the fingerboard,
creating the perfect pitch. . .
People were always drawn to you,
despite your lies and deceitful heart
just beneath the surface.

I can't imagine being your mother,
having to bear the sheer embarrassment of
birthing such a vindictive child into the world.
I've seen your mother's pained expression
every time she looks at you--
tight lips, pressed firmly together, and
a face devoid of all
color,
life,
and love,
with deeply sunken, disdain filled eyes.

Do you feel safe around her?
I know I wouldn't.

I stepped into the bitter cold
Just to have snow blown on my face,
And an ice old wind force my eyes shut.
Mornings like this make me long for the beach
More than anything else,
(except you. . . But that's a different longing entirely).
I'd lay out on the sand,
Until I had that sun kissed glow
That only the beach can give,
If I were at the beach.
I wouldn't mind a little sand
In my salty, ocean tossed hair.
Maybe if I were at the beach,
I'd find a charming boy to whisk
Me away from everything with
Just one sweet, stolen kiss...
But that's a different longing entirely.

I gasp for air
that simply isn't
mine to
breathe.

I haven't painted my nails
since we were still
a happy couple.
Now they're chipped,
but i can't bring myself to
remove that blue-green polish
because it feels like the one little piece
of you that i still have.
Maybe once it all flakes off,
i'll be back to the old
me-without-you self.
Not having forgotten you,
just no longer dependent.
Baby, you were my alcohol
and now i'm just another addict
going through my first withdrawal.
I often wish that i could go back
to who i was before you,
but i have to find me first.
Until then, i'll endure the detox.

Today should have made a year and a half
Should have. . . but it didn't.
Instead of celebrating a day I'd looked forward to
for months, I tried to forget it.
But failed.
The funny thing about failure is this:
I usually don't know what i'm doing,
That's why I fail.
But not this time.
Maybe I don't know what I'm doing,
but I failed because I didn't want to forget it
I don't want to forget you.

Weeks have gone by, but I can still feel your arms around me.
You still haunt my dreams; I wonder
If there will ever come a day
When you don't.

I think about our lass kiss, back in early December.
The way you looked at me,
with so much love in your eyes,
and how you leaned in to steal one last kiss
before your parents stole you away from me.

You always had to steal kisses from me.

As we kissed our last kiss,
I felt you smile, and I smiled too.
I took a step back, just to be wrapped up in you
once again.
Little did I know that
was the last time you'd hold me like that.

I wish I could live in that moment.

I wrote you a letter, my love,
and was going to send it with your clothes,  
but I don't know if i can.
I asked my mother to mail your things back
the day after Christmas,
but they still sit on a chair in her room,
taunting me.

Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night
Sobbing,
Frantically searching for your hoodie
(I always used to sleep with it).
It is only when I cannot find it
that I am able to comprehend the fact
That you are no longer mine.

You will never again be mine.