We’ve been hanging here for days. The ropes we’ve hung around our throats are slowly beginning to whither and fray. And it’s so cold, I don’t remember august ever being this cold. The clouds are rolling in since you’ve been gone.
I never wanted you to turn around and leave last night. I could see it in your eyes, a picture told a thousand words that I could never say. The silence ringing out from the last words that you left for me. She said “I know you like the back of my hand and the only time I’ll miss you is when I’m gone or dead”.
My heart vs. the tone in your voice, your words they cut me like a guillotine. These long departures have taken their toll on me.