Untitled 177, “for Nick, again..”
The heat settles in, a haze clouds the moon.
I hate the last week of June.
the memories break my heart, wake my fears, and I fall apart.
I’m breaking every day,
A psychic told me it would take ten years to get over this pain,
ten years to put myself together again, to learn to bend.
Instead I just find myself in hell again.
I’ve missed so many things in your life.
I missed celebrating your birthday with you the last four years.
I’ve missed hearing your voice on the phone,
I’ve missed your criticisms
your witticisms
your laugh
your empathy
your anger
your love.
I’ve
Just
Missed
You.
Where has the time gone?
There is a vacant space where my heart once was.
No matter how many times I go to sleep, or lie awake,
I whisper the same prayer, the same plea that makes my heart ache.
I keep the windows shut, locked tight, but every night
the heavy hand of the summer heatwave creeps in.
I wake up drenched in sweat, or tears,
I create humidity,
violently woken by my fears.
The sound of my heart pounding in my ears.
It’s been
four
fucking
years.
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“your gut instinct is not a liar, those initial feelings exist for a reason, sit on them if you need to, process whether your feelings are valid or just projections, but never dismiss your intuition when the signs are staring you in the face and your nervous system is agreeing.”
— iambrillyant
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