Everyone has someone

 June 22nd 2025 

“The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It's the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared.”

Bruises on my skin, like purple watercolor. Smaller than before, body like porcelain. 

Perfection. 

Coffee rings on the nightstand, open soda cans litter the kitchen counter.

Dark halos of my early mornings and late nights. 

Scratches on my body are red, bright and bleeding.

Uneven tan marks.

Short stained.

Wishing my hair against your pillow, long blonde strands and soft cotton.. eyes closed and I can see you turn back for a glance.

Me laying in your bed, waiting. The corners of your mouth lifting and I see a dance in your eyes.

This one is The Love of Mine. 

Your friends say, her hand intertwined with the girl and her copper skin.

Eyes wide open, shaking my head as I am watching you leave.

Please, please don't go, I beg.

You are around the corner and you are gone.

They don't know what I mean, you don't even know, nothing has ever felt like this.

Nothing, until now, until you.

I realized no one can possibly know, even if they tried.

They all have comfort, their commitments, everyone has someone, their family and their friends.

They all have sweaty palms from each other's hands and soft smiles hidden in their eyes.

Quiet I love yous whispered in the night.

Fingertips are cross backs of hands, fluttering eyelashes and disappearing nights.

They don't have chaos, they don't have intense pain late at night, restless sleep long into the morning.

Everyone has someone.

Uncertainty between each other I'm struggling to love.

And again I push away everything that is right.

I want wrong instead so I don't have to live with forever.

Conflicting stories of emotions.

I fight and rebel for attention.

All the while you continue to love me.

History, with one another tear tracks run down my puppy red cheeks.

Sacrifice over and over.

Aching hearts yearning for The Love of…

Sure she is, you say.

But you know.

Time.