Your arms gave my demons a home since the afternoon of February 16th, and I knew your ocean eyes could drown them and free me from their grasp. Who knew those eyes would drown me entirely?
But eventually I could feel the darkness bite at the wires in your brain. They rearranged every night and I think you forgot who I was, because once August 24th rolled around, we had confused love and lust as we rolled around in between sheets, and that was the start of months of confusion.
You had changed the codes on every alarm starting September 13th, (or had our distance made me forget?)
By November 24th, I had lost the key and the spare was no longer under the mat. I still wonder how many had forgotten to wipe their feet while I was gone, so I gave up on praying that Venus would save us.
December 13th, my suspicions of your unscared touch every morning had been confirmed. I remember you begging for one more lustful grasp, and I wish I had said no, because when you told me you didn't love me I could barely stop my rageful fits on the bathroom rug.
Your walls came crumbiling down the following February 10th, when you begged me to come back home. But I knew your chest cavity was no longer warm and I felt no safety in the way you looked at me.
I loved you so much, but the calender is my only friend and this calender never lied, but you always will.