I remember our call on new year's day;
your voice; warm, gentle
unlike the harmattan breeze
that grazed the nape of my neck.
I remember every sentence, every giggle.
Mostly yours.
I remember our vow...
I guess that's all I can do.
Memories are strong yet weak to the physical.
we cannot hold them in our hands and fold origami airplanes out of them,
we cannot hide them in between hugs and kiss them goodnight before we sleep.
Somehow, I still feel a thin layer of your lips
whenever I touch mine--
like lithium on the surface of clear glass.
But I took the shards of my shattered heart
and I forged an hourglass
where I kept inside pieces of your smile,
echoes of your heartbeat;
Those things that can only remind me of you.
I guess I learnt not to hurt eventually.
YOU ARE READING
Anxiety and Things that Shatter
Poetry"Anxiety, you are lightening and a thunder only I can hear. In my despair, you wear an intimidating smile like a glittering stretch mark on the skin of the horizon." Cover by @DeathsDarkSoul
