you crash into people, you knowMature

You crash into people, you know.

You collide with them and you leave craters, you leave bruises behind where others leave the warmth of their lips, and you spin off into the galaxy without a backward glance. Still, you wonder why everyone leaves, why she trembles beneath the weight of your fingertips. You know why; you know damage the way the tides do: briefly, and then intimately from a distance. You observe the way the cliff-side changes every day; the way pieces of her are chipped away until she is all new by the end of the year and though you've watched her change, you are aware of your abysmal lack of knowledge about her.

You cannot be intimate and erosive at once, you cannot mend the gaping wounds you leave behind if all you ever do is leave them behind. She will heal without you and apart from you, and soon there will be nothing but distance left to try to use against her but you know you've already lost. You lost the day you tore out your first hunk of her, the day your fingertips left marks on her arm that you couldn't take back.

The End

8 comments about this poem Feed