I can feel the rough surface of your goodbyes
Little monsters who bite at my flesh
They scar me and cut me and snag the little parts of me you loosened and I nearly let come undone
But at least I get to keep a little reminder of you
Even if it is a wound
A little something left of you to cling to
I can taste the bitterness of your unsweetened words
Their sour expressions like acid on my tongue
As they collide with mine, yours spilling from your lips, mine from mine,
and though you said you wished it and dreamed it, our lips, they never touched
Words words born of ink or vocal chords
Both vicious weapons and a divine form of healing
I can hear your silence
It whispers softly to me
It’s cold and sounds like the quiet night air when you are alone
And make a wish on a star even though you don’t believe for a second it could come true
I inhale the scent of your regrets
They haunt you and plague you like disease, ghosts and demons they stalk you in various states or consciousness
And their drifting aroma reminds me of the final day of autumn before the very first snowfall
I can see your mean streak
It cackles maliciously
Your shards of cruelty
They are silver and glint in the candlelight like blades
There is one intangible thing of yours that I can perceive in you that I really wish I couldn’t
I can’t taste it, or feel it by touch, sight, scent or sound.
It is not quite an idea
Nor a thought
Nor a concept or a fleeting feeling or emotion
But whatever it is It is swirling around your aura
Rising from your mind like steam from the fragile surface of a cup of Irish tea
And it stings so badly
Because whatever it is
I can sense it somehow with my soul
I can sense you not Missing me.
Not one little bit.