usual

more hopeless truths

Slipping out of the warmth of a blanket wrapped tighter than your arms ever were, I am bewildered by the thoughts gently stroking the edges of my mind. Head resting on a tortured fabric, stained with the only scent worth remembering. Enveloped spirits cling to these sheets, out lasting time as skin fleets.
I cannot die without your touch, like marble columns my bones are cold. Warm me up beneath these sheets and let your plasmatic syllables ebb in and out of my consciousness. Your kiss has tainted these lips of mine, eager to feel what was never there. Nerves connect to ghost limbs I’ve imagined, forever connected to you.

You tremble beneath my hands, and between each breath. Your tongue flicks against those red lined lie flickers. It was the last time we’d be together you said, and I hear those words still today. What becomes of me when that shaking defines me? What becomes of me when the world never trembles for anything but you? I’m a world without an axis, going around in circles, lost and alone.