the slow art of breathing bitter

Sick For You

I am sitting inside my car;

Leather seats—cozy and warm.

But there's a extra space between us.

Scratch that—an intentional space, to be precise.

Bluegrass music is blasting, and my heart's screaming

at the top of my lungs.

No more alive in energy like before,

When you were here by my side.

I can feel a void bruise and a blue burn.

I'm crying,

and hurting,

and screaming hard—

I'm waiting for you, dear.

It's raining outside;

rain-soaked window glasses,

the shushing wind,

unshed tears are flickering.

You broke your promise like a glass mirror,

and my heart like a stray twig.

Your words are etched on my heart:

gentle scratches of the razor;

dripping blood.

I'm burning for your old caress,

and my lungs for your warmth.

The rain's pouring harder,

and I'm crying softer.

It's about to storm now,

and I couldn't head home.

I can smell your cologne from here;

are you here beside me?

I couldn't see you, love,

It's too dark and cold and lonely.

And this rain's reminding me

more of you, how painfully enamored

our gold-plated memories are

in the pouring rain,

in the brimming tears,

in the fragile tune—

and I can't bear that anymore.

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A/N: Tap the little star, and I'd send you a blueberry muffin right away! :)