Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Anastasia Snow Apr 2018
Him
A week ago your sent still lingered on a pillow I still hold.
I held that pillow with all my might.
Tears running down my face as memories came flooding in.
Washing away all the memories I had without you.
Forcing me to remeber the way I loved you and the way you broke me.
Your hands were like fire on my skin.
Burning the places they touch leaving my skin a different color.
Sometimes red yet most purple and blue.
You wanted me yet not the way I wanted.
You forced me to my breaking point.
You pushed me off the edge of limitations causing me to shatter like a peice of glass.
Then he came and picked up the peices you left behing like a peice of trash you had forgot to pick up.
His hands were like water putting out the fire that was still burning.
He turned my skin back to normal.
He wanted me exactly the way I wanted.
He brought me back away from the edge.
I still wnated you though.
I still loved you.
Even thought everything you offered was like a plauge of pain and despair.
I tried pushing him away as if I hated him yet he planted firmly on the ground as if his feet were the roots of a tree that could not be cut down.
He made a confession like the holy bells of a cathedral.
His arms wrapped around me like a sheild protecting me from any harm.
His sent now lingers on the pillow i still hold.
His arms still hold me the way yours never did.

— The End —