He is the repercussions of a broken heart.
I cannot be bothered to pick up the pieces and sew them back together and so I reach out my hand between the mosaic of bed sheets and graize my fingertips on the surface of his skin.
I do not dare to go any deeper because the last time I dove into somebody’s ocean I almost drowned.
Now I can barely float, I just dangle my feet into the waters to remind myself how good I was at swimming when I had enough breath to hold.
And he doesn’t understand.
He continues to explain to me how difficult he is in relationships. He doesn’t want to hurt me. He says I’m too much of a good girl to fuck over.
If only he knew how shallow I have allowed myself to be. I don’t want to mess up my hair.
Yes his liquid emotions could fill my lungs if I let him but I’ve stopped walking into the waves when the water has reached my ankles.
He has warned me not to ‘catch feelings.’ And I laugh in agreement as I watch him slowly fall in love with the way my lips curl when I smile, and how messy my hair is.
And the stretch marks that travel down my thighs.
I watch him try to avoid eye contact until he finally gives in and sinks deep into my iris only to come out covered in honey and chestnut.
Who knew a man could be so obsessed with eyelashes and earlobes.
Just make me green tea and fuck me after.
I wish it was that easy. I wish my sarcasm could make up for the lack of love I have to offer you.
I know you miss my warm hands when you sleep and so you turn up the radiator every night.
And you lend me your hoodies hoping I give them back with the scent of my pink skin and coconut hair.
And I know you let me lay my head on your pillows even though you don’t like crumpled sheets just so strands of my curls are left behind.
And that is all I will give you to remember me by when I leave.