To lose you was a strange, sobering strangulation. It was winding and meaningless and terribly persistent. Losing you.
I clung to your fingertips as we parted ways, a desperate attempt to keep you close. But you slipped from my grip, stumbling off the earth’s edge. Whether it was with purpose or clumsy neglect, I could not tell.
Still, I cannot tell.

Long were the days after. Heavy. Memories clung to my clothes, skin, hair, sticking with the pasty glue of...

I am raw, exposed
scrubbed clean, skin peeling.
Anxious eyes watch.
Wait.
For the blood to drip trickle pool.
for side glances and furrowed brows 
to tilt their heads,
questioning the masked reactions
the swollen tongue
puffed lids.
Because it is inevitable
that they know,
only a matter of when
and where
and how.

Do i bare my soul
or wait 
for an unwelcome reveal,
a slip of the tongue
from the few who know.

And what will it be ...