To be quite honest, it's been a while since I haven't faced a blank page. I am not sure what I am supposed to say, but I need the relief.
Words that I haven't said grow inside me like a wild swarm of bees spreading emptiness within.
Chills cross my skin and raise bumps, soldiers along my arms.
Every breath feels like a razor cutting through my lungs, and I am waiting for the blood to gush through and release me, and it's just saltiness on my eye ducts instead.
Truth is, I still don't know what I am supposed to say.
In my chest, the beating is faint, it evoques a certain tightness around my neck.
The grasp that has left faint red marks around my neck. Marks that ressemble the shape of your fingers...
Your eyes are bright, and your ways are childish at times, you refuse to let go of a moment that has long gone.
Your lips and mine are sealed.
Your breath feels warm on my neck.
The contrasting fairness of our skins, the softness of yours against mine.
And how safe I feel at your embrace.
But you're gone now.
The emptiness came back, and all I'm holding on to is the memory of your arms around me.