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tiny vessels


it started with a bacardi-fueled kiss on my friend's bed. it became so much more, or so i thought.

we spent nights with our fingers intertwined, smoking joints in the park, and drunkenly falling into each other at parties. his thumb traced along my cheek as his lips gently kissed my forehead. we rolled around on the soccer field, naked and laughing as we pulled apart from each kiss. purple marks covered my neck. i always smelled like him after.

he started becoming distant. he said he never had time. he said he hopes we can still be friends.

i cried for days. my chest was empty. i felt so alone. no one had ever made me feel more like myself.

i see him every day. i look at him and i can feel his fingers running though my hair and his lips pressing against my forehead. he feels nothing.

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