How could my mind have deleted so much?
I remember ripping out pages.
The next morning, I scrubbed and scrubbed at my skin.
Please tell me there is some word that will fill this void?
That tomorrow I will be clean, and you won’t have forgotten me?
Should you turn away; i’m sorry.
That’s all I know how to say.
I feel as if I have doused myself with gasoline.
Maybe if I give it a day, you’ll come back to me and kiss me in a whole new way?
Liquid screams.
Liquid laughs.
Is there really such a space between us?
Or has my chagrin ripped at us to the point where we don’t even bleed?
Why won’t you answer me?
Am I really that nauseating?
12:53.
What can I do? I’m not blind to this distance.
I cannot pretend.
I’m slamming my hands upon these keys, breaking.
Is this how it ends?
If I sent you a photograph; my skin showing.
Would it fill this chasm?
I feel like a cavity.
I’m counting one, two, three.
"Until then"
I’ll leave you be.
Until you want me again.