I wake up in cold sweatsMature

I wake up in cold sweats, with swelling
in places I’d rather not talk about.  You’re
a sickness I’ll never shake - no amount of 
cold medicine, anti-depressants, mood-inhibitors,
therapy sessions, suicide attempts, wet dreams,
or journal entries can wipe you away.

I get out of bed and take a scalding hot shower.
The water is so heated that my skin turns blister red
beneath the stream, but I do not move.  With crimson fingers
I scrub away the imaginary memory of you but I never feel clean.

You are the thing that keeps me awake at night
when other girls are worried about acne and football games
and the whispers of fair-weather friends.  You are
the cancer that is rotting away my moral compass.  You are
that sip of wine you sneak me when my mother isn’t looking.

I can outrun a lot of things - muggers in the alleys,
nightmarish creatures that tear through my dreams, all the
lies girls tell each other, tell themselves, all of the messes
I’ve ever made - but no matter where I go I’ll see the flecks of gold
in my eyes and I’ll know they mirror yours and I’ll be forced
to remember you, to remember this, remember all the galaxies
we could fill with the things neither of us could put to words.

this piece was prompted by a secret submitted to my tumblr.

The End

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