ExpressionSketches and Words.
I can run away from you,
but I cannot escape you.
The past months have been plagued by me trying to replace your face with someone else’s;
plastering layers of gilded gold on top of the broken remnants that are still piercing my skin.
I met a man.
I thought I could run over the roadkill of old memories with a parade of new ones.
Foolish, isn’t it.
My hands miss the familiarity of your tresses.
My mouth misses the veiled tenderness of your kisses.
My feet miss all of the steps they used to take around you,
like planets orbiting a star.
This is a cruel game—
letting the tides carry me away from you,
only to find you poisoning the waters.
You left a long time ago.
Right after you swallowed the key to set me free.
Anthony is the founder of Bob Cut Mag and the director of business development. Anthony writes on LGBT, people, and gender issues but catch him also writing about other shenanigans he finds himself in. Want to partner with Bob Cut? Email him at firstname.lastname@example.org