5 Things From 3 Years

i sat on my closet floor thinking upon the fueled bitterness of what came from the existence of us

and as i began to think, i realized there wasn’t much.

not much to remember,

not much to miss,

loving you wasn't really much at all,

it was just simply a dull jaded bliss.

and i’m not sure if that’s my brain trauma blocking the thoughts to prevent my heartbeat from rising, but either way when i look back on us, it’s like whatever was left there has all subsided.

your existence in my mind has became a mere outline of what i’ve left behind, to convey the apparition of what i was left longing for this entire time.

gentle touch. maybe not so much, the touch, but the beauty of simplicity that comes from being loved.

the fight giving way, to call him by his name, to unveil what i was deserving of, when i had dusted off all of the shame.

gentle touch. the way i do feel when i say his name, how his fingers give way to all the pain that has harbored in my heart since that day,

i sat on my closet floor thinking upon the fueled bitterness of what came from the existence of us.