Nostalgia's hurricane embrace
I am trying to rip open the sky that sleeps in all of their mouths. The quiet. The storms. Their hurricane arms growing awkward around me. Growing absent around me. No longer around me.
Hurricanes feeling more like home than your arms ever did.
I miss not feeling at home. I’ve seen what home really looks like. I’d trade it back for feeling like you don’t love me enough. As long as it just wasn’t enough; instead of not at all.
I’m trying to open you all, to open it all—to calm this constant pressure that sits in between my ear drums. But I don’t understand it well enough. I am not loud enough, to still the monsters in you.
For 11 days smoke danced out of my lungs like my chest were a chimney. The sound of you leaving became replaced by the scent of tobacco on my teeth. The ocean tucked behind my ears, I rested with the sunlight pouring through my fingers until your voice no longer pounded against my skull. I let her take it all away this time, in her waves. This time last year you lay next to me in this same room. Swallowing your venom as you spit words at me,
You poisoned me in the worst way possible.
The moment came like a fist, pumping faster than a heart pumps blood. Planned and Prepackaged. The moment came as Nostalgia running through veins. Veins turning white, knuckles turning blue. Like teeth held in the center of palms, like bloody gums hiding behind pride
Like a snow white face covered in your fists empty promises//
When you left you taught me more by not speaking, than you ever taught me when you were here.
Liked or faved by...
