According to croberts5
My body remembers you. Every bed is a desert where I say goodbye to your mirage all over again.
Legs reaching out for you like scorpion claws, scouring these sheets for something breathing to latch onto. In search of the remaining humanity of you, or at least your human remains on the vulture pecking ground that was your side of this manicured mattress.
My extremities circle around the satin, hoping to spot your flesh and swoop in, my feet fly off the edges of the bed as if pricked by cacti masquerading in my minds eye as you. Stuck searching for you in this barren wasteland of a bed.
Not even your bones remain. Nothing human remains.
You still muscle your way into my memories, my missing you is more of a reflex than anything else.
I twitch the way rattlesnakes tails shake when I’m up late, searching for you. A search where I am a snail, pacing in a perpetual sand dune. And each memory of you douses me in salt, evoking involuntary convulsions, I coil up to avoid extending myself into the quicksand of scouring leagues under this sea searching for you.
Snails die in salt water
This bed was once a beach and there’s sand at the deep end. My mind got out of the water years ago, but my body is still swimming in search of you.
We eviscerated the hydrogen and oxygen that we once swam in
two times over.
Sand is all that’s left here.
And I’ll drown myself in this desert of an ocean floor if i keep swimming in this eroded bed of former rocks searching for you.
My mind and soul snapped out of it a while back , now I just need my body to stop falling for your mirage.

Discussion
No comments yet.