We lie inches apart,
faces turned from one another,
like two commas in the same sentence
that never connect.
Your back faces mine,
like a locked screen
close enough to touch,
impossible to enter.
Between our shoulders
sits a small, silent country,
made of everything
we don’t say.
I reside in a foreign land,
An unfamiliar place
Where I left all familiarity behind.
I keep running,
But my past moves faster
Than I ever could.
I don’t want
the hair tie on my wrist
it’s just a reminder
of how easy I was to keep.
I don’t want the flowers.
They died
doing exactly what I did:
staying too long.
We didn’t break,
we thinned out
into quieter sentences.
Comments
This is really captivating! The similes and metaphors you use feel very original, and the line lengths make me feel the tension your poem describes. I have a really clear image in my head of two people, lying in bed, facing away from each other surrounded by silence.
Thank you so much, that means a lot to hear. I was really trying to capture that quiet tension between people who are physically close but emotionally far apart.
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