Some days I convince myself I’ve moved on. That I’m healing. And in some ways, I am. But then there are nights when it all comes rushing back—the ache, the silence, the empty space where you used to be. And I realize I’m still reaching out in the dark, hoping to find you there.
I ruined cooking—the sizzle of garlic in oil stabs like a memory.You'd peek in, sweetly grinning,telling me, "That smells awesome, Love."Now the kitchen echoeswith pots too quiet,a silence that burns worse than the flame.I ruined laundry—each tumble of shirts a cruel cycle,your scent once clinging like a vownow clings like a ghost.We dreamed aloud by... Continue Reading →
i wanted to write about you, about us--
the perfect piece of literature, unblemished of all the dullness and banality,
something worthy of what we were, what we had been--
but i couldn't find the sparks of life and love
that would bring the novelty of this piece into the world.
Everlost 