he does not normally speak so softly-
his words, they swirled around the room,
like ashes caught in autumn's temperament;
and, ever so gently, they took their place on the floor
next to last year's hopes and assorted broken things.

and i couldn't think,
i couldn't think of what to say
so i kicked my feet against some
tissues and a broken heart (or two)
and let silence slip into the moment.

he was slipping, and i could tell.
and i thought:

god, if this doesn't kill me, if this
doesn't kill me i swear i will make the
world for him. i swear i will make this worth it...

and as his whispers turned to thunder something
inside him roared:

this won't kill you, girl. but i promise
it'll make you hurt. i promise you won't
forget this one.

03/21/2005

Author's Note: over three years and another love later, i still hurt sometimes. i don't know, maybe i never really let myself heal. /// this is also the first thing i've written in, i don't know, months. i'm rusty, and it shows.

Posted on 03/22/2005
Copyright © 2025 Lauren Pearl