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it was three thirty-seven a.m.
on a tuesday morning. it was
terribly cold out,
despite the quickly approaching
spring.
yet regardless of these factors,
a resounding knock
filled every crevice of my
lonesome apartment.
i wiped the sleep from my eyes as
i not-so-enthusiastically
whipped open the door.
it was you.
i had never seen you so
broken.
your eyes were sunken in to
the black holes that found their
homes beneath of your dark
lashes. your hair was
a mess on your head,
looking unkempt and long.
your lips were blue from the cold
and your hand was raised in an effort
to continue knocking on the door.
i blinked at you.
you returned the act before lowering
your hand in such
a slow manner
i thought it would never reach its place
beside your leg.
i began to close the door,
feeling nothing but the emptiness
that had been residing in me
for the past two months.
but you stuck out your hands
in a panic,
your voice rasping out
a protest.
i subconsciously stopped my movement,
waiting for a moment before
widening the opening so you
could come in.
you stepped inside
hesitantly, as if afraid
that i would explode
at any moment.
we stared at each other for an
eternity.
your words had slipped you
as you stared at me
and tears began to release from your
sunken eyes.
i had only ever seen you cry twice.
this being one of those times.
and for a minute
you flashed a face at me that
i only remember from the beginning.
