To the Trippy Hippy, I Miss You

It’s hard missing someone

when you see them everyday

i see him on the backs of my eyelids

and in an attempt to make the pain go away

i stopped sleeping

i stopped trying to rest my eyes because all i could see is him

wearing a distant smile shared between strangers

that’s what we’ve become now

strangers

when we use to be inseparable

he kissed me like the butt of his cigarettes

desperate for his fix of nicotine and dopamine

now my name gets caught in his throat

my skin is still under his fingernails

and i’m just a piece of thread on his pinky

a constant reminder of what happened

but easily removed

when i’m around him i feel like my lips are still caught between his teeth

the room is bone shattering cold

and i’m as pale as the paper i drew his face on

the old recliner in my garage has become a jail cell

stuffed with convect memories threatening to burst the seams at any moment

even when we are alone i can’t hear him over the deafening silence

he tries to drown out the noise with music but the only beat i hear is of my own heart

which has made it’s way into my throat, suffocating me with my own veins

veins that have turned on me because I injected you in carefully

and felt higher than any drug could take me

but you clawed your way out and left me to paint my sorrows with my own blood

but we still act like nothing happened

we wear masks like we’re greek actors and i can see the tomatoes flying my way

because i haven’t learned how to put on this act

to act like i’m ok

and that i don’t see his fingerprints tattooed on my skin like land mines

my brain is the biggest bomb i own

and it ticks every day, unknown when it’ll explode because when he left he took the clock

time heals all wounds,

but the hands of time can’t reach you when they’re hanging on someone else’s wall