Seasons.

12/7/08

December-
when things die.
when things turn ugly in the morning light.
when your lips slide down my spine
too sad to run, my limbs loose life.

 

I could tell you meant it tenderly
the way your voice wrapped around my name.
a caress in your apology
but it felt like a choke-hold all the same-
i couldn't push you far enough away.

There's not enough water to wash me clean
500 miles and i still feel you're breath on me.
i want to sweep out all your cobwebs.
wash out my memories.
pour bleach in every crevice.
brush all your fingerprints off me.
i want to close the door on you.

 

again and again and again.

until i feel like three inches of wood and a dead bolt can keep me safe within.
come spring, you'll be nothing but a ghost in winter's skin.

Reviews

[Wondering Mind]

Some very strong emotion and haunting imagery in this write. "December. When things die" was a very effective start to draw the mind of the reader deeper into the darkness of the write. Nicely penned

[kaycee]

i know i already told you, but this is absolutely wonderful. i think it's my favorite of everything you've written, and that's saying a lot because you're amazing.

your descriptions are perfect, haunting.

i love you.