watching you
can you taste it? the scent of rain lingering in the back of your throat? i'm drowning in my own blood. it's taste like copper and iron, rusty and pure. i thought it would hurt when i first placed the knife to my skin...all those many many years ago. but it hurts less than loving you. it hurts less than knowing you're going to leave me. not because you want to but because that's the way our fates are written. the stars whisper their song in the rain. it's so cold. halloween came and passed us by with it's costumes and happy sugar-hyped children screaming in the streets of hell. "angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night." you used to laugh when i'd do that. randomly quote something obscure as we sat on the crypt overlooking the sluggish waters of the river. the thick night surrounding us, making it believable. our little lie. our belief in ever, for ever. the cold rain can't bleed away my tears. i'm surrounded by your sent. a cigarette burns slowly between my fingers. the drops tap softly on the roof of the porch as i swing slowly back and forth. your shirts are worn and smell of the rain and smoke and spice and heat. just like you. i trace my fingers over the tattoos. the little reminders of days curled up in my bed the radio playing softly in the background. and we'd just talk. about nothing and everything. and then we'd make love, have sex, fuck like we were going to break. and sometimes i thought i would. break apart into thousands of glittering fragments to scatter on the wind. and something would slip and then i'd fall. and i'd keep falling. tensed, waiting for the impact, for my body to slam back into the ground. but with you holding me i could fly. it's when you left that the illusion died. and i was left alone with my thoughts. like today. when you're so far gone, but only in the next room. i can see you through the windows. but you're a million light years away, in a place no one else can get to. a place you won't let me go. i take another drag off my cigarette and watch the smoke hang in the wet air. i still feel like i'm drowning, only this time it's in your blood instead of mine. it's in the taste of you, the need of you, my love and hatred, and sometimes my apathy of you. i'm drowning because you touched me, because you left me here, because you made love to me like i was made of glass, because you fucked me hard enough to leave bruises and cuts and teeth. i'm drowning because you're so fucking happy, and sad, and warm and cold and fucking ALIVE. you feel everything. i feel nothing. except the pressure in my lungs. how they burn for oxygen. but there's nothing there. just the nicotine and drugs and light and dark and cold and wet. can you taste it? the scent of rain lingering in the back of your throat?