i hate big houses. with their empty space. i only have sadness to fill it.
i crave physical touch like a drug. i crave skin to skin, soul to soul kind of touch. i crave interlocking pinkies because i need a little hit. i crave to hug people that do little things for me because it’s the only way i know how to say thank you.
i smell the rain and all of a sudden i’m back with you in the city. the city where even with sirens, thousands of people, and too little square footage, we made a life.
i remember it well
your hand was on my hip
as you stood
behind me
talking to your friends
and they all stared at me
because we weren’t even
together
but your hand was splayed on my hip
and your head was on my shoulder
and you told me
“you feel like home”
people tell me i will survive. that i won’t be able to remember this one day. that i will get over it. and maybe i will. but i will not forget. my blood, and my bones, and my cells, and my sprint won’t let me. they will never let me recover from you.
i can feel it in the way your lips meet mine. your love for me is waning.
i’m so proud of you.
”your hair gets curly when are in love aliza, and i know those curls weren’t there before”
happiness is running away from me. and i am letting it happen.
pick what you want. i don’t even care if it’s me. please just choose. you know the back and forth is breaking me.