a letter to a person i'll never forget but wish that i could
a letter to a person i wish i never met. to a person who will never read this. to a person who wouldn’t care. to a person who i really liked. to a person who has something that i’ll never get back. a letter to a person i’ll never forget but wish that i could.
when will it stop?
the sound of your heavy breaths
shouting in my ear
the feeling of your hands never letting go
sometimes i still feel them
like bracelets on my wrist
tightening around my neck
when i try to gasp for air
and when i close my eyes
you reappear
your face, i remember that you didn’t shave
your smell, like cheap soap on a hot day
your taste, like watered down whiskey
you know that used to be my favorite drink?
a whiskey neat
held lightly between my hands
like dads at parties
with cigars in their mouths
but now when i see a bottle
or a whiskey sour being served
to the girl with the blonde hair
i’m suddenly back in your room
pushed on top of your navy blue sheets
that hadn’t been washed
the underwear i was wearing was also navy blue
with little lacy bows on the sides
do you remember?
because i do
i bet they are still hiding from you
somewhere in that room
i left too quickly
before i could find them
just a small noise
could have woken you
and if you had
i wonder if you would’ve let me go?
i went back to that bar
the one where we met
where the drinks are stronger than your battered hands
where they play music
from a time we never lived
i think i see you
and my lips begin to shake
a worried tear slips down my cheek
and onto the the new white shirt
that you tore
but as i inch away
ready to run to the nearest exit
i realize it’s not you
just another boy
with a maze of brown hair
and ocean blue eyes
staring down at his 2 dollar beer
and only then i can breathe again
until i see a book
with a bright red cover
the one you told me to read
you liked to talk about books
about movies and far off places
about skating from one town to the next
with no destination in mind
you seemed
so.
sweet.
you held the door open
you bought my drinks
you lightly took my hand
as we walked back to your house that night
i wasn’t scared
but i guess i should’ve been
that sweet smile
turned sinister
the second your door shut
and you knew i couldn’t escape
when will it stop?
i ask
as if you know the answer
as if you care
as if you even realize
that when someone else touches me
the boy who has my heart
even puts their hand through my hair
i’m still scared that it’s you
that every night i wake up
from the nightmare of your lingering face
above my body
that when i walk around the city
the city that i once loved
my heart stops
when i see any boy
that looks like you
i wonder if the memory
of you
of your navy blue sheets
of the door
that seemed too far to reach
will ever fade
or will stay planted in my head
spreading seeds
and whispering your name to me
whenever i try to sleep
even as i sit here alone
watching clouds become scarce
listening to the sound of the same song
that makes me smile
i can still taste the whiskey on your tongue
still feel your sweaty hands on my arms
and hear you say “it’s okay” lightly in my ears
i’ll keep asking
asking you when it will stop
wishing
i never met you
begging
to forget you
but knowing
that i never will