You

A thousand miles

or more

stands

between us.

I should be

safe,

but somehow

I can still feel

your pull.

 

Echoes

of the taste

of your skin,

they stay too long,

for such things

that should be

forgotten.

 

I lie here

mired in memory,

unable to be

released

from your

grasp,

while a tightness

grips my chest,

pulling everything

inward,

and away

from a world

without you.

 

It is cruel

for you to

linger

like the taste

of a crabapple–

that bitter-sharp

temptation

of regret.

 

I want to

pour you

from my mind,

to scour you

away

with the remnants

of before.

Yet here you remain,

giving me no

respite

from your

hauntings.

 

A wail rises up

from my

core

and flows

from my

long-neglected

lips–

I will never

be free

of

you.

 

7-2-19

 

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