message in a bottle

I thought of you today,
though I hadn’t in awhile.
it caught me off guard to know
you’re still in my mind somewhere,
hiding, quiet, stealthy.

After so long without contact,
and never really missing you anymore,
I felt regret for how we ended,
how I ended us,
how you ended me.

You were my everything
right up until the moment you weren’t.
You used to talk marriage and forever and “someday”
but someday turned to never
when you put a ring on her finger.

We were so close, you and I,
told each other everything
about the things that didn’t matter.
We weren’t big on sharing our feelings
because that would be admitting a weakness.

I loved you, though.
every minute of every day
long before you told me you loved me
and even longer before I said it back.

Over a year has gone by
since I’ve heard your voice,
since I’ve felt your touch,
since I’ve smelled your scent,
since you made me laugh.

Over a year, darling.
Today, for the first time in a long time,
I thought of you,
not to hate you or miss you or be angry
but to smile at the memories.

I think that means I’m at peace.
Or something.

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rainbows (you or me)

Red for your temper,
For the crimson wave you caused
Trying to calm you and guessing at
Which of us was bleeding.

You, or me.

Orange for the flames
That burned your cigarettes, and my skin
The hiss of glowing ash against flesh
thepainishappeningtomybodynottome

Yellow for the day you ran, tail between your legs
While they cinched cuffs onto my wrists
You vanished when I needed you,
A coward in combat boots.

Green for your glowing jealousy
Stealing pieces of me to keep them all away
You’d stare at me across rooms
And I don’t know who hated the other more.

You, or me.

Blue for the cop’s uniforms
And the ice of your eyes when they pulled you away
I could see the cold words in your mind
All of the frozen blame that waited there.

Purple for the bruises you left
The jokes that my skin was yours,
Just a canvas to stain
I say it was you, but I can’t remember who started it all.

You, or me.

Brown for your hair and my hands in it,
I was gentle and sweet at the beginning,
Before I discovered
You weren’t.

Grey for the blade I stole
And stared at every night,
Breathing hard,
And tried to decide who to use it on.

You, or me.

Black for my eye,
and the boots you wore
Laced up tall, like you had something to be proud of
When all you’d ever done was hurt.

You, or me.

People say the dark colors aren’t part of the rainbow
There’s no black or grey or brown.
But that’s because no one wants to hear about
The darker side of things.

No one asks where your bruises came from,
Whose hands put them there.
They never press you when you lie,
They never ask because they don’t want to know.

You, or me.