literature

musings when the raindrops hit my skin

Deviation Actions

Published: Feb 26, 2014

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Literature Text

_{he left me with nothing more
than the feel of his body on my skin
and the texture of his lips
uncontrollably stained on my forehead.
but i showered, fingers slanting
towards freezing water,
(i tried and tried
to rinse him off but i couldn't quite
remember why i tried beating him
out of my head in the first place.)
so i clenched my teeth and
stepped out naked, bare feet tracing
the tiles of the bathroom floor,
making myself nothing more than the
flickering lightbulb that was about to
shatter,
nothing more than pieces
on the floor.

i loathed him with a sick anxiety when he was away--
but nonetheless loved him when he was wrapped around my
deteriorating frame,
reminding me of what i would miss when he was
away.
it was only a matter of time before i blew away,
ash in the wind, a speckle of dust in
a dirty laundry basket.

i promised myself most of all
that i wouldn't let myself love him, i would
keep hiding inside of myself,
i wouldn't crawl out of my empty shell;
but i was greedy.
i took too much and now he was practically oxygen to me
and i was gasping for
air every time i saw him, hoping that he could
supply me with something i could hold onto.
(i ached too much when he was gone,
everyone said it would be dangerous to
love someone more than you loved
the moon.)

it wasn't until eleven am that afternoon
that i realized he was no longer the myriads
of unresolved spirits lingering inside
of my head waiting for their
afterlife,
but he now lingered inside of my body
when the earth smelled of rain and
traced on my skin;
he ruptured my walls and blew himself
into me,
as easy as smoking a cigarette for the first time,
but as hopelessly impossible it seemed to quit.}