I don't think we ever truly knew each other, she said.
I almost said I felt like one of those icicles that stay the same size, while all their icicle friends are pushing towards the fallen snow.
I just looked at her.
I'm surprised my stomach didn't digest my heart right there, as my eyes ran across the back of my brain, I could feel the static building.
Wondering. Where I went wrong and when.
We had it all.
The lazy Sundays.
The gluttonous nights after work.
The lustful sweat falling to her bare skin mixing with the oils and dust in the air.
Her make up running with angst
Asking to be set free, I know that feeling all to well, I said.
What? She looked perplexed pausing the passion.
Oh, sorry, I slapped her in the face, and she smiled.

I thought about driving my car into a tree tonight
these words in my head, when they come out they don't come out right
i wish i had the guts to ask you if you still love me
or if you ever loved me
you don't know what you do to me
i wonder if you did, would you want anything to do with me?

My bedsheets are soaked in memories and emotions
A stain of blood there, some drips of tears there,
A warm imprint of people who once held each other there
I put them in the wash, but they don't seem to come out