Oh, you’re all I taste :: SOTD


“All that you rely on,
and all that you can save,
will leave you in the morning,
and find you in the day.”

(by me)

The words came through another’s mouth. Words I’m to believe are random, a strange coincidence, a prize for something never entered, or asked for.

All you had to do was say I want to see you.
I would have come.

Even if I shouldn’t,
maybe especially because I shouldn’t.

But you didn’t say anything.

You’re a winner is all the words said.

So, in three days I could see you.

If I want to to see you.
I always want to see you.

Even if I shouldn’t,
maybe especially because I shouldn’t.

I try to write no fourteen times.

In purple ink, in the sterility of computer type, in the tiny thumb-prints of  text communique.

But I don’t hit send.
I don’t write it out.

I scribble out the word. I hit delete.

Yes, I want to discard the message.

I wonder if I could actually erase you.

Given the opportunity would I take it all away?
The memories, the wishes, the way you taste.

Are you buried too deep for anyone to find you?
Too deep to scrape out of me, to make disappear?

Doctors, therapists, scientists, the next new anti-depressant?
Could they take you from me,
and for good?

If I go I’ll have no one left to blame.

In My Veins :: Andrew Belle and Erin McCarley


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