i find myself in piles of dirty clothes and unwashed dishes
i leak through the cracks between
days and hours
i remind myself that i am forgetful, and forgettable.
my soft fingertips would graze up against your leather skin
your plump lips would brush against my chin
slowly, our body limbs entangle with the rope
of our veins
slowly, and our fingers interlocked -
i think i used to believe that love
should feel like some wild storm, passionate and raw and raging
but you've left me bone-soaked and choking for air, leaking through the cracks
between
days
and
hours.
and i guess now maybe i should look for love
that feels like a night
after the storm
is
over.
YOU ARE READING
nevermind + poetry.
Poetryin which i write poems about love and growing up and everything that comes in between