Drabble #79 – its skin of gristle (this
isolate)
It’s a strange kind of reverence that comes with downing
the night’s heartbreaks in the eve of winter. The air
cold and dry, I watch you pack your luggage as I unzip mine.
Bite my lip, act like the silence isn’t choking me. Your
suitcase with the broken wheel drags by your side, like a dead
body, heavy with memories and life lost. I toss in a piece of
my heart just before the click of the lock. Do you know what
it’s like, feeling like an echo? You were always the type
who had a lot to say and no one ever knew what was going to
come out of your mouth next. Today, you didn’t say a
word, and I’m astonished by how thoroughly we have broken
each other.
5 faves · Oct 21, 2015 5:54pm