Untitled poems #816
I didn’t think,
I didn’t think this would,
I didn’t think this would happen.
There was the salt we tasted,
The land that gave us,
The cobblestones
And the loose rocks that chased us.
But nothing felt like the fingerprints
in that pillow.
The hand I traced
After you fell asleep.
I moved my head from edge to edge
Feeling the parts that could of bled
That should of-
That I secretly wanted to.
Instead, I saw nothing but
blurry and forgotten Christmas lights.
Fixated on pixels
I tried to forget;
the screams,
the porcelain hugs,
the lost luggage,
the concrete kisses.
Why?
The questions about my wrist.
A heavy watch I’d say.
I never thought I would be that woman.
My bones were guilty.
My blood felt the same.
But WHY?
I thought.
On thoughts.
And
On thoughts.
Wrists begone
And pillow fingerprints beside
But heavy eyes let you touch me.
Even after the war.
You made me hold your crown and comfort your pride.
You needed it.
You had to hold your pawn.
And there I was
textured breath
And cold tiled cries.
You could scare me.
You could touch me.
But nothing will compare
To the spoon you made me eat.
Black and blue breath.
And the bowl that made me weep.