Particles of Our Coexistence
I have fragments of you still stuck under my skin. I try to ignore missing you, but they just pop up everywhere. When I’m undoing my bra, I remember your soft fingers and the trouble they went through trying to do the same thing. And your lips trail around my imagination, while my sister is staring at the way my arms are stuck behind my back with memories. There is a shade of indefinite pain when I brush it off in a joking manner.
When the music is on full blast, I down the alcohol like there’s no tomorrow; I remember your taste and how much it’s not in that bottle of vodka. There’s a tear that slips down my cheek. There are undying memories dancing with that tear when I say it’s tears of joy to the boy who noticed. When I’m sitting alone in a café and I almost order your love, there’s a touch of regret in my voice as I say I’d like a cup of green tea. When the clock gets stuck at 11:11 PM, next to the night sky, my thoughts get stuck with it. Countless wishes pour out of my heart. And it almost bursts when I realize it’s been six months and I haven’t heard your voice.