The hair ties I left behind. I never forget where I put them, just a keepsake to come back to later. They know the hollows of my past. Followed me down every dark alley, school hallway, and soft bed. Only difference is they get left behind physically, while I get left behind mentally. The people I’ve left in my life are haunted by my remnants. Or blessed with my image. My face forever blacklisted from their memories but when they see my traces buried under their pillow their recollection of my portrayal does a 180 back to the day you told me you loved me. And you loved me. Then, my brain does a 180 back to the day you told me you loved me and did not love me. Back to the day I stayed too late because I never wanted to leave, never wanted to go home, you were home. Part of me overstayed my welcome and no. Im not talking about the hair ties anymore. Im talking about my heartstrings. The way you played them while shouting that I brought you to the hesitance because Im the whirlwind, the quick flutter of waves and you only were around long enough to get your feet wet, not long enough to strip each layer of clothes and get devoured by the storm I am, because storms are messy. Reek of nothing but havoc and frenzied goodbyes. Goodbyes that are resistant and without reason. Not anybody in this world wants a rushed farewell. I was left behind waiting for it, slowly. For you to tuck those hair ties into a back drawer and say goodbye one last time.
Written while I was afraid of being forgotten by someone who promised they'd always be there.