Still Waters - Vol. IV, Issue 1

Page 5

A Mistaken Goodbye 
 TEARS STREAK HER FACE,

to examine her twinkling smile. I want to

accompanied with the remnants of last

prove my love to her, convince her of my

night’s mascara. Her lipstick remains

infatuation. I want her. I love her. Instead, I

smeared all over her deflated cheeks. Her

sit on the floor, alongside the smashed

crystal blue eyes that I once found

lamp, without a voice. It is time to leave.

mesmerizing fail to appear under the

My fingers swell, dried blood as

curtains of puffy red. Her long brown hair

my gloves. Cuts from the flying glass cover

drapes her body, providing her only sense

my body. How did this happen? Where am

of safety. I stay over here. She stays silent.

I? Who am I? Who is she? Her usually

It is time to leave.

empowered stance, her booming cackle,

The clouds grumble through the

her defiance all seem infinitely far away.

open window, only pushing more heat in

She sits opposite me, eyes distant and

between us. The air becomes thick and

devoid of herself. She is gone. She has left.

sticky, and tears fall from the sky. I guess

Why am I still here? What have I done? It is

everyone needed to cry. The bed remains

time to leave.

perfectly made, unslept in, except for two

The door of the hotel room, our

small dents on opposite sides. The pieces

honeymoon suite, slams behind me. The

of the bathroom door live shattered on

fluorescent lights clash against my tired

musty carpet. The toilet reeks of vomit,

eyes, making me squint in discomfort. A

and the small trashcan overflows with

young bellboy questions my appearance

bottles of booze. Once perfectly white tiles

with his intrusive brown eyes, but I keep

are splattered with blood, with tears, with

walking. I miss her eyes. I step into the

anguish. It is time to leave.

elevator, grateful for the solitude I deserve.

Purple and black cover her thin

Just before closing, a family of five steps

legs, her beautiful stomach, her warm

into the crowded space, pushing me

heart. Her eyes face the ground, perusing

further into my dark hole. It is time to

the floral printed carpets. All I want is to

leave.

touch her, to feel her soft lips teasing mine,

2 Still Waters Vol. IV, Issue I.


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