It almost tickles when you cry for extended periods of time. How do I describe this? It’s not the tears rolling down, it’s not the feeling of wet eyelashes. It’s something that claws at your lungs and slithers between your skin and your bones. It’s everything that’s ever touched or slashed or burned or rotted your heart and nothing that has ever yet happened all screaming out at once.
that is all.
(Blame everything on the PMS.)
What can you say when all the words are gone, but the memories are still whirlpooling around your ankles, beautiful and tempting and corrosive? What do you do when there is unlimited space, no character-counter ticking in shades of light gray in the corners of the heart, but at least for today, all traces of prose has been rung out of wrinkled fists, open and empty and completely lost?
What do you ask when all the rhetoricals have evaporated out of your head? When the melodies have dried and left nothing but waterstains? What do you do when the goosebumps stay splashed over shoulders in midsummer?
I shouldn’t ask you. I shouldn’t even write you. You might not know all the answers but you definitely know how to shade it all in hues of deception, because I could never tell. I could never tell for an instant that you had nothing left inside for me. Not up until the end, not until that last moment, when my question bleached and faded in a pool of reticent truth.
It’s been a while. It’s been a while because he’s gone and I pooled what was left to conserve energy, to conserve heart, to conserve me. I realized lately that as much as I’d like to think so, I don’t have an unlimited amount of me, and I needed to just cull that all together for the time being while I waited for my heart to reboot.
One love and one…thing in the span of 5 months is a lot. It’s a lot for the heart, it’s a lot for the mind, it’s a lot for me. Summer can give me the breath of warm air that will recharge, but right now I’m still lost in between my childhood and my future. It’s a rainy day today, and it won’t stop pouring. At least I’ve stopped.