My Own Version Of The Slap

It took me 20 years to learn how to be level headed in the heat of the moment.

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I’ve been running out the clock,

I know it’s something I shouldn’t have been doing.

Staring at the clock on your wall as you poured your heart out to me.

It was our last night together, no not forever just for a few months.

Not few more like 3 or 4, something neither of us were looking forward too.

So I’ve been running out the clock watching the minutes tik by as it was far too late to go home but the pain of staying seemed too much.

If I kept watching it maybe it wouldn’t feel like the end or even a pause.

We’d pushed off or rather ignored that our time was coming to an end.

Our dreaded ‘do we do long distance or is this the end?’ Conversation.

It happened just two weeks prior and in a spur of the moment, because we were running out the clock.

But now you laid naked on me as I wore your shirt and my underwear, like Yoko Ono and John Lennon.

I’d like to say I could stop time or just buy more time but we were much too late for that.

Less than 24 hours and I’d be gone.

No more tight hugs, no more sweet kisses where you hold my face, and no more staying the night warm and always touching each other because

We are obsessed with each other’s presence in a way I’ve never experienced before.

So I’ve been running out the clock, pretending that our time wasn’t gonna be stopped for a while.

Paused for a while.

I could only hope that our relationship wouldn’t be on pause either.

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I can only hope the world will turn the same without your precence

What once was as two common loves, turned to a common love and a newfound dislike for a state I’ve never known

I vow to be mad but cannot because I have never known a love like yours. I spit vile and filthy words about your departure my world but never say them, you don’t deserve them and we both know that.

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