Rainy dates were always my favorite.
We would blast music through the speakers and dance a bit too much with pizza in our hands. While one of us played the air guitar, the other would slide across the floor with a remote in hand as if it were a microphone.
We held our own imaginary concert and ended it with a kiss to the lips and poetry written in-between. Your laughs echoed through the room and all I could do was stare because man, how could you be so beautiful.
You would then carry me up the stairs and place me on your bed. In that moment we didn't think about lust. We thought about the galaxies sowed into our skin with every touch we gave to one another. We thought about the sunrise when my chapped lips and your smooth ones met halfway. We thought about roots sinking deeper into our hearts with each piece of clothing removed. Even when the room wasn't exactly quiet anymore, we would whisper "I love you" to each other just incase one of us forgot. And while we catched our breathes, we thought of sunsets, and how the pink clouds covered the blue ones.
Two years later, at 2 am, I hear you whisper the things you used to whisper to me to someone else.
I no longer think of galaxies when you touch them. I think of the scars you left me with every single delicate touch. And when your lips hover over
his, I think of the storms you've caused inside of my heart. As a shirt falls to the ground, I think of the number of times you threw my heart to the ground too. And even when moans and groans can be heard, I whisper "I hate you" even when i don't, hoping you'll hear that too. Finally, as you and him gasp for air, I'll gasp for air too; in hope of feeling alive.
a/n: lol this sucks
