Unfaded.


You’re way ahead by now, a million miles into the river that leads you back home. My heart is spread too thin, fluctuating between wanting you and craving the death of every feeling you birthed in me.
I’m way behind by now, walking down streets where you have sung drunken promises, only to whisk them away, right from under my lashes.
I escape your love and convince myself it’s redemption. I extrapolate to anger, reaching out for the fire within. I play pretend. I run. I run until I can’t breathe, until I crash face down.
So tell me love, have you been to the sea where the waves first whispered to us the story of what could be? Have you sunk your toes into the sand and felt the warmth of my hand on yours? Do you remember the sound of my voice aching for your fingertips on my spine?
Sometimes I wake up and my sheets are white and the sun is warm.
And sometimes I remember that you’re my tongue’s favorite taste. And I go back to the beginning.
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