Pillow

 Apologies for leaving this blog dead in the water. Guess I've got another backlog to upload.

For now, here's this.

Tears stream down my cheeks again.

What am I to do?

To cry once more upon an end-

Not one more pulse I'll feel.

Are my feelings so simple?

Is that which I feel pain?

Oh, you didn't hear.

You didn't hear over the rain.

Rain of tears falling.

Rain of blood spilling.

Rain that surrounds the electricity

The electricity that powers the negatives and positives between you and me is gone.

It won't come back.

We've split apart, as climate cools.

You've insulated with rubber, and I've insulated with paper.

So I still feel each jolt.

But it's not a pulse.

It doesn't help that the clouds dampen all that is around me.

Water seeps into the spots I don't want it to be.

Water flows out of me, uncontrolled, uncouth, uncaring.

Saltwater flows into every open wound.

Saltwater flows into my mouth, and I gag and choke on my own admissions.

A mixture of both comes out and collects.

Little flecks of red make it all the more dreadful.

 

My face is dry, and encrusted with remains of the previous night.

My pillow is still wet.

I think I'll go and lie down again.