Fickle is my touch when I come across your scent on my sheets… It takes me by surprise and pins me down, like a dream within a dream. A reality I can’t wake up from. I stumble upon particles of your memory drunk on my pillow, swaying between my neck and my thighs.
My throat collapses and words fail me as I try to lean on you.
Tumble upon me
Take me by the hand and tell me our secret is safe.
Tell me your ribcage is my shelter
Your breath my resistance
Your skin my token.
My sky is dark at dawn, my eyes are weary at dusk, and the time in between is tainted with the possibility of my thoughts falling apart from this cycle of doubt. My palms are sweaty, my head is heavy but mostly my bed is empty and my home is in a place that isn’t mine.
I miss you like the world gives a damn. But time is cruel and distance is delusional. And home is a place where memories wait to consume me.