Scars

johncoyote

Stitches…

I remember her last words. The million hellos were erased by a midnight good bye. Once we entwined our lives and now in my secret place. A million fingerprints, leftover reminders. I painted on her tender  and raw skin, love words. Over and over till they became meaningless. Somehow the love words made her bleed and I had to sewed her-up. 

I remember on a liar’s moon, I removed her the stitches and I kissed the bluest scars and the wounds reopened. She told me. So cold, I am. I am like a Alaska long Winter. You wasted your fingers and hands on my dead skin. Once you excited my body and mind. You were my 3 am ride, my 3 am company. We tried to fulfill a need always rising and falling like a Winter Pacific storm. I told you, I was a heartache waiting to be born…

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