The places where you are not

I awake from a dream and my face is wet with tears. I watch them trickle down my cheeks and then plop! onto yr stomach. Drip. Drip. Drip. the regularity of a leaky tap in an empty house. Drip. drip…drip.

I know you are getting ready to go. I turn my face towards you. Lick the salty wetness from my lips. Whisper: ‘please. don’t’.

But its happened again. The words I speak are just thoughts you never hear.

You button up your shirt. You look down at me and smile.

I watch you as you walk away. Shudder as the door clicks goodbye.

In my room my memories echo. The scent of you. The places we laughed. Creases in the sheets.

I pick up yr shadow and pull it close. It lies in my bed in the space where yr body is not.

We slow dance round the room to the beat of a slow drip… drip…drip.

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About Rachel

zinester/diy-til-i-die/love hate relationship with arts admin/girlpunkfeminist/geek
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