28 July 2014

Tell me you hear the echoes of your keys as they fall to the table, replacing where my welcoming of you back home used to fill the air.
Tell me you miss my laughter as you speak of your day while lighting a cigarette, and how I insist on hugging you despite you bringing home the day with you.
Tell me you press your lips tight so not to remember how my lips felt against yours after each hello and before each goodbye.
Tell me you feel the wind breezing past your shoulders, where my arms used to hook around your neck while looking into your eyes telling you how lucky I was.
Tell me you stay silent at home, hoping that if you kept quiet long enough, listened hard enough- that you might hear me calling out for you.
Tell me you stare in the mirror while you brush your teeth, so not to see the empty cup that used to hold my toothbrush, or realize how a bathroom could feel so sterile in a home.
Tell me you sigh in bed as you pull back the covers, reaching out where I used to lay facing you, with my smile only you could place on my face.
Tell me you lean your back against the wall as you drift off into the past to mimic where my body used to be as our breaths sync through the night.
Tell me you remember how you begun to understand what a pleasant shock meant when I begun to exist in your life, where kisses placed or hands fumbling to find yours were a common while you slept- for you to awake only to find me creeping closer to you, and to melt back into your dreams with a smile only I could form.
Tell me you rediscovered the unpleasant falls that wake you when you find yourself occupying the entire bed and no one pushing you away for trying to keep yourself warm.
Tell me you now hate the music of birds, and how my shifting doesn't awake you anymore, but how the birds still do, taking up the role of a fire alarm, for you to feel the aftermath of the fire I set in your heart.
Tell me you have begun understanding how the deaf functions as our favorite songs play, and how you never had to concentrate so hard to ignore a sound that used to make your day. 

Tell me you still think of me.
Tell me you still miss me.
Tell me you still love me.

Because I am still here, waiting to tell you all these, all over again.

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