forgetting you in sunsets

by 02:32 0 comments
this morning, I pretended I forgot you, 
as I walked past you, 
a ghost of your perfume, 
choking my breath, 
a lot of my memory too, 
and suddenly I’m not there anymore. 
I’m in a car with you, 
you’re driving as I trace scars on my wrists, 
the radio’s not working, 
so we let the silence become the two of us, 
there’s a storm brushing past our faces, 
you’re driving a lot higher than the speed limit, 
and we’re on a one way, 
driving in all the opposite directions, 
I really want to shout, 
and scream,
to say something that makes me feel like I’m in control,
my silence echoes back to me, 
it’s never felt louder, 
or more real, 
there’s a sandstorm on its way, 
and I’m freezing a little too much, 
I wrap a scarf around my neck. 
It feels like me choking on my own breath, 
like your hands around my neck, 
strangling me, 
and all I can hear is your laughter, 
and I don’t ever want to hear it again, 
I wish I could unhear it. 

I trace my fingers across my bruises, 
and I wish I was anywhere, 
but here. 
This is too painful, 
and my heart doesn’t want to beat, 
I remind myself that it’s okay, 
and over,
and over again, 
I wish I could believe it too. 
I haven’t forgotten you, 
And I keep wishing that I do, 
in all the sunsets that make my heart ache.

_forgetting you in sunsets 
(part II) 

National Poetry Writing Month, Day 13.


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