The Rain On Monday

Written words are the only thing my mind can find ease in.

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27. Dusted

I walked into your parlour for what would be the last time, since you were moving too far away from me once again.

The dust particles rose swiftly off of the cardboard boxes as you ran through the front door, leaving it ajar.

Silently we stood as my attention was drawn to the dust drifting slowly back into it’s solitary place upon the boxes and wooden floor.

You walked up to me and took my hand in yours, leading me out the partially open door, closing it loudly behind us.

We walked up the dirt and cobble path to the hill where we liked to star gaze.

It was too early in the day for stargazing, but we still lain down on the grassy hilltop to distinguish oddly shaped clouds.

Your hand and mine were entangled, and in that moment I didn’t think that just in a few days you’d be leaving me again, never coming back.

The wind started gently grazing over the empty fields of nothing and the sun turned a bronze colour because it was getting ready to set.

We could see the outline of the moon, like it was shoving the sun down and out of sight, just because it was that eager to see us.

Or at least that’s what we thought.

You started to speak, telling me what your fears were about waking up alone.

You said that maybe it’d be better if you didn’t wake up anymore.

I felt a thud inside the cavity of my chest, and I think that it must have been my heart dropping to the depths of the indigo ocean inside of me.

I couldn’t argue, because I too had terrible thoughts, just like you did.

The wind chime hung on your front porch started to jingle as the moon rose and the wind sped up.

The air was salty and thick, almost hard to breathe in.

But then I realised that it was not the air, but my own breathing that was salty and thick.

The tears flowed like a river, yet you never looked over at me, for I saw you were fighting back yours.

I felt as if an elephant had sat atop me and was smothering me, and I was sure that any moment I’d breathe my last breath – but I didn’t.

My lips tasted like salt from the ocean of tears I couldn’t tame, and your face was wet with sadness, but we never did anything to stop one another’s heart from cracking.

Alas, the moon was high above us and we gazed at it intently, like it was the only thing that could keep us from dying.

A shooting star sped by, and you looked at me and told me that your only wish was that you didn’t have to leave, or that I could come with.

I wished and wished with all of my heart, but my heart was drowning and I couldn’t feel it.

Three days later, you drove away from me, and when you drove away, the ocean within me dried up, and I was filled with a new type of coldness and bitterness that I’d never known before.

 

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