If I ever lose my mind, remember, I lost my heart long back.
The ocean’s turned red, trying to squeeze itself between his words.
This is my messy closet. It has thorns carefully stored. Handshakes with ghosts. Names, fuzzy in my mind. This 6 by 6 is a diary. Cluttered corners alive with gossip. Cracked heels reeking of dance, drinks, drama. It hides the dress worn that night. Plastic jewels, marked with memories of untied hair. Tiny rusty drawers, opening to dreams of curiosity, of hidden play. The key lies within, why search in space?
The clouds are my umbrella against rain.
I stretched every instant and wore it like a scarf, feeling warmed by days yet to come.
When the last button fell, no one heard the shirt tear, no one saw the dust ruffle. It was as quiet as a swallowed voice.
I pickpocketed his desires. Top of the thief pack, even the mirror was bluffed. Running, hiding. Waiting for that day. Would he catch me?