I watch people move like ghostsMature

I watch people move like ghosts through parking lots, hair whipping in the wind, eyes downcast and hollow.  I think of us, I think of the times I’d feel as empty as these parking lots at three AM when the rest of the world is sleeping and I found myself hunting for a nepenthe, or maybe something stronger, something darker, something to soothe the aching thud of my heartbeat into silence.

I want you to tell me what it was like when we put distance between us like a prescription for moving on; I want you to tell me what it felt like in your ribs when you missed me; what it felt like when you woke up with your fingers searching for my shadow only to realize you’d cast me from your bed.

You used to tell me you could feel every inch that separated us like a cable wire stretching from your sternum to mine, tightening and tightening and tightening and tightening, that you could only breathe properly when I was close enough to hold.

The End

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