#zcmk

You’re still the one I think of when I have things to tell; and when I wore your sweatshirt yesterday I realized how much I missed your smell. It lingered…

Like all the things I’ve mentally made note of since the day we met, it stained my brain the way we stained your counter with the red wine we drank

Or the way I’d stand to lock your hair after a late afternoon beach run; like the touch of your warm skin that embraces me like the sun

Like the words to the song you wrote, the art drew or the sculpture you made; the look on your face when you showed me

You linger…

Every time I peer through these doors, I remind myself of the mistake I made…

Letting him enter our sacred place. I so badly wanted him to be a part of my world—

To understand. To understand me. To understand why I am the way I am.

Why I like the things I like. My hopes, my interests

How I cope. How I release.

And it’s my fault really, for thinking he could be a part of this world. My world. Our world.

It is for this reason, I could not find the courage to come back—

To reopen the door and fully immerse myself in it like I did once before.

So for now, the door remains slightly ajar, until I can find my way back

Wait for me,

Maybe I want this more than you do.

And sometimes, I lay down and think about how much I miss being thought about; being thought about so much that you’d write me paragraph upon paragraph to convey to me all the things you cannot say when you are in my presence, and the ink stained sheets of paper etched with the poetic words you’d only whisper to me while you sleep, or the dreams we’ve yet to bring to life...