i had this terrible habit;
i’d look for my voice in yours.
i believed every word
the photographs said.
we squeezed the color from our eyes;
marooned squinting souls.
forever scared me into today.
i stopped time with my heart
and in my veins
i could feel you
tick.
eventually
we became exhausted syllables;
punctuated with mistakes
till we were full with no
stop.
i miss you
in ways
my pen is still unable to articulate.
an inkling of memories
that wonder
if you still sleep alone at night.
and if i were to be asked,
i’d do you all over again.
of all the things we shared,
hesitation was never one of them.
scarred knees,
clasped hands,
strained in penance,
you remain my prayer.
i limped away
with one recurring reminder:
you cannot tame the wind,
just ride the lesson.
on the last night,
galaxies sat at the basin
of my stomach.
your name
a kissed
pronunciation of stars
dripping in constellations.
sometimes i sneak your taste
into the mouths
of all the lovers
you should have been.
i hope you realise
this is not poetry
but a collection of
whys & what ifs.
we are the lonely ones,
the lovely ones,
the languages
you were too afraid to speak