• Sam

    by  • July 5, 2011 • * Safe for Work *, Lost Love • 1 Comment

    Sink below the cool water. Pale tender blue flesh seems like it could fall right off the bone. The fragrant smells are almost nauseating. Run my hands through my hair; thin black strands fall out at the slightest tug. It’s only now I can let that caustic steel knot in my stomach unwind. These memories now seem to mock me at every chance they get. We both know that I’ve played a not-entirely-innocent role in every awful thing that’s happened to me and there is the bitter sting of guilt. The long intangible spear rams my gut. Only now, submerged and silent, can I let my imagination take me back to you. It all seems so perfect, so easy, that summer day on the pier, my head on your shoulder. I think I even shed a happy tear or two. Admittedly, I don’t know you anymore. I can only gather that you’re just as uptight as ever but it doesn’t stop me from loving you or whatever it is that I do now. I remember laying on the floor a few months ago looking in the eyes of some crust punk kid, breanne’s friend. Warm, safe, drunk, he whispered “I love you”. I could barely muster an insincere smile and after that I just couldn’t bring myself to see him anymore. So now in this bath, I can’t help but wonder if you even feel half of what I feel. I eat and sleep sporadically; I do my best to get by. I can’t let myself slip back into the past because I won’t come back. I can’t let myself move on into the future, because that’s exactly where you aren’t. So I stay in limbo.

    One Response to Sam

    1. Katie
      July 5, 2011 at 5:35 pm

      i love this.

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