when I'm high I can feel the same tingling in my bones as I did when you touched my neck and I can taste your tongue on my lips like you did when you used to whisper against them and say that you would always love me but it wasn't me you fell in love with. you fell in love with my hips. with the way my fingers tensed when you touched me, three quarters up from my wrist. and when I'm coming down I can still feel the pain as when you left me and my heart disintegrated into black, rotten ashes.
and I can feel your lips on my chest and I can feel your lips move, they way they did when they admitted their unrequited love for me.
but the spaces between my fingers have never felt the same since you stopped holding onto me for dear life.
I can feel the life slip over my hands and break through my fingers.
and I've come to realise any life I had left went with you