Didn't. Couldn't. Shouldn't. Don't.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

And you'll never forget the way he said,
"Don't ever let anyone do that to you.”

 

It's that moment. isn’t it?

The one where something happens and you’re never going to be the same. Not ever. And you might not know it then, it might take you a year or a whole lifetime to realise that somewhere along the line you changed. You broke and you were wasted and ruined but you just didn't notice at the time. Why didn't you notice?

What about in the moments before? Before your lips are bleeding and your heart is pumping so fast that it almost feels like you have two hearts. His and yours. You certainly have the capacity. Maybe the feeling comes because for a second or half a second or even shorter than that, you lost your heart just like you lost way and your mind. Perhaps the blood isn’t circulating at all. How could it when you've given your heart away? So it leaks. It floods and no damn could contain it. Such a mighty force that will crush everything in its path.

 

Maybe it was the moment you touched his face and he didn’t move away like he should have, like he normally did. Instead he lets you feel the short hairs under your fingers. You shouldn’t have done that.

Maybe it was that time he touched you and you had no idea how the world stopped but it did. It just did.

Was it when you sat on the kitchen floor and he wouldn't leave because it was the right thing to do but then we are screaming in the morning and were angry and i'm inconsolable as you walk away. Maybe it was then.

Or it was that moment that hurt so bad. Hurt more than expected and left you empty. Do you feel empty? Of course you do because you're still here and he's stirring risotto wearing that bracelet that he pinned around your wrist and for a few short hours it felt like a collar and leash and you felt like you were possessed.

But what if it was none of these? What if it was when you knew that you can't keep thinking about him. That you have to stop reading registration plates, driving by his house and that carpark and that office and that apartment where he showed you he loved you. Maybe it was when you stopped pretending that you didn't keep the notes in a box under you bed.

When you couldn’t tell him that, while he ate that sandwich you thought about kissing him and when he touched his face or smiled or stood up or sat down or lay down, you thought about kissing him. But that would lead you down a dark street in the middle of the night where your bones would be broken and your spirit would fade like an old torch. So you shut your mouth and you write it down as he holds you against the wall, carving his name into your ribs with his teeth.

And you'll never forget the way he said,

 "Don't ever let anyone do that to you.”


Submitted: March 20, 2012

© Copyright 2021 SisiMaclachlan. All rights reserved.

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