I woke to moths falling from the ceiling
and you,
in the dimly lit room beside me.
You grabbed me then,
held me down against the coarseness of the sheets
and whispered something.
I was afraid to wake up,
afraid that I would still have these bruises,
bite marks, broken blood beneath my skin.
Your way,
of saying goodbye.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 10:57 PM UTC
I woke to moths falling from the ceiling
and you,
in the dimly lit room beside me.
You grabbed me then,
held me down against the coarseness of the sheets
and whispered something.
I was afraid to wake up,
afraid that I would still have these bruises,
bite marks, broken blood beneath my skin.
Your way,
of saying goodbye.