Him

I can remember his scent, his touch, I remember him.

We have been over for months now, can’t tell how long it’s been, let’s just call it a blur.

I miss him.

The warm, gelatin feeling after waking up next to him, the sun glimmering on his forehead and cheekbones, his heavy sighs and beating chest.

I often question his motives, his reason for walking away, leaving me cold, and blinded by the darkness of this empty, pin-dropping quiet alley.  My head is evoked with ache, wander, a shaken conscious and rioting heartbeat.  My soul soups and swelters into the bowl of hot torment, disaster and agony.

 

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