the slow art of breathing bitter

Needle-thin

I believe you're here right now

when you're gone.

From where I'm sitting in a red haze,

I'm believing (instead trying to)

that you're still present around me.

You're here—in the green hoodie, I'm wearing 

that you once bought from your favorite mall.

You're here—in the framed picture on my bedroom wall

where we've spent an hour in sweetness and softness.

You're here in these messages and photos I deleted 

a second ago

before I realized how much I loved you, oh dear!

You're here in these salty tears and incense smell—

lingering in this bedroom and on my cheeks.

I hated to wipe them away, but I did.

You're here—

everywhere I see ya.

You're here, still here

in this hazy glow of truth—

between a dream and a nightmare.

A needle-thin kohl lining

that brings us apart from each other.

A real woman of moondust,

and you, from the poetry of stardust.

We draw echoes on our shoulders

before we realize we aren't meant to be together.

We have learned to survive and breathe bitter—

on the kind waves of passing strangers.

A needle-thin truth of slurry words,

and that's how it has been going.

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A/N: All of us have different ways to escape our woes. Maybe, voting is one of them! ;)