Broke and Bleeding
I open the door and there you are. Dark hair and bedroom eyes.
You invite yourself in and touch my shoulders, light and soft. Do you expect me to shatter? Melt? Or do you expect your hands to pass right through me because I'm nothing but a memory to you already.
Your eyes apologize before you tip my chin up to kiss me.
I lift my hand to brush your fingertips away from my face. Is this necessary? Didn't we already say our goodbyes? You catch my wrist, and your lashes sweep downwards as you press your lips into my palm.
The bitterness is plain on my face. And on yours? Well... I'd rather see anger. I'd rather see hatred. I'd rather even see disgust, but not this. There is sorrow shadowed on your cheeks and lining the edges of your mouth. My eyes soak it in until you lead me towards the darkness of my bedroom, where I can't see anything at all.
We become sweat and skin beneath the sheets, and all the secret regrets held within slide like vipers across my flesh.
It's over for both of us before I know it. You roll off me and lay still for a dozen heartbeats. And when you twist on your side to pull me close, I scream inside.
Slivers of pale skin in the trashed sheets, I stay in the circle of your arms as the moonlight creeps up my thigh and your soft panting becomes the even rhythm of sleep. I steal away to the bathroom and void my body of the remnants of sex. Bracing my hands on the back of the tank, I watch the cloudy mess swirl away. The water gurgles like a dying man.
When you told me you were leaving, I wanted to ask you when we fell apart.
But, we were always falling apart, weren't we?
I wish I had realized that before I gave my heart to you.