What Used to Be

Allison R.

 

His touch

used to send

chills

down her spine,

her skin used

to tingle with

anticipation,

with longing.

His voice

calling her name

from across the street

used to make her

turn her head

at the words

formed by his soft

pink lips.

The sight of him

used to awaken

butterflies in her stomach,

used to take

her breath away.

The sky used

to be painted

light blue,

rose,

coral,

and gold,

a sunset sky

made by him,

by her imagination.

She used to dream

of holding his hand,

feeling the warmth of his skin

blend,

blur,

melt

into hers.

She used to

melt into his arms

when he hugged her

from behind.

She left that all

behind

when she waited

for him to come home,

to gently touch

her hand to remind her

that everything is

right.

He never came,

never called,

never texted,

never warned her of what

was to come.

She felt it in her head,

her heart,

her body,

but she couldn’t let go

enough to show him

that he hurt her.

He didn’t stop by for

weeks,

didn’t call her name

on the streets,

didn’t embrace her

from behind,

didn’t awaken butterflies.

He was

playing with her head,

and her heart,

and her body,

never calling to say

“I love you.”

He never

asked how she felt,

asked what happened to them,

to what happened to their

relationship,

what happened

between them.

She thought

of what used to be,

what he used

to say to her,

how he used to caress

her face,

cup her chin in his hands

and tell her that he loved her.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s