After you. 

Standard

slow.

i feel a red curtain fall infront of my eyes; the unholy sight of your back, you move farther away, away, away, till you’re nothing but a little dot on the skyscape, almost invisible but eclipsing the sunrise.

blue.

i turn up the volume and try to scream along to a long forgotten song. all i manage to do is say out your name in a faint whisper. i say it again, and again, till my tongue feels numb. i say it, i say it to bring you back to me.

sour. 
i redecorate my wall, rearrange my bookshelf, make my seventh cup of tea and throw it down the drain. i light the stove up to make the eighth, hoping this time i am not reminded of your laughter at my failed attempts of hosting a guest. 

blind. 

i walk up to your house and return without knocking on the door. i wait, and breathe, and choke myself on traces of your being. search my skin for your fingerprints. i ask you why, you say nothing.

 – 

i stare into the horizon, i whisper your name again, i make another cup of tea, i tell you that i want to see you again. i tell you how we can’t leave each other just yet. 

you tell me the only thing people are good at, is leaving.

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