the day you stopped feeling like yourself
transparent window panes became frosted
with the cool heat of his disinterest
the kaleidescope of your mind began to retrace itself
praying to find a moment where you could
still trick yourself into thinking
that this was something
real
and i am left here turning and screaming
and praying for a day where i can feel warmth
that doesn't come from five minutes in his presence
i dig my nails into my skin because the sharpness of the pain distracts from the sandstorms in my heart
dry and hot and nothing left to give
i look to the stars and try to pray for a future
where i'm not still thinking about the look on his face
when he turned away
and the softness of his voice when it speaks my name