I hear a voice that made a home in parts of my brain that fail to function. My sanity is spilling out of my frame and my feet are heavy with blood. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to see him because I want to see him so bad. Clouds form in my stomach, a sun shines in my heart and there’s a rainbow within me. I see people shaking hands, ending conversations, saying goodbye and I wonder how long I’ve been standing here.
I turn around.
He’s standing as tall as always.
“You look good in heels.”
I don’t speak.
“I like looking at you up close.”
I can’t hear what I say next because I’m focused on the space between his eyes, the lines around his lips, and his arms his strong strong strong arms. Arms I used to hold. Arms I don’t want to hold anymore but I want to touch I want to feel I’m curious to know if they’re as strong as they were once before. He takes a step closer and I forget where I am, I can’t make out the shapes around me.
One step closer.
Those little gems he calls eyes fail to remind me of who he really is. They lie to me and I believe. Eyes are not windows to the soul. I’ve seen cold eyes on warm people and his are filled with luscious emotions. The kind that can persuade you to stain your own clothes with blood. Looking into his eyes is casting a curse upon yourself that you never want to be removed.