Preface
Something is missing
When I dream, I dream of darkness. When I wake, I'm surrounded by it.
If I were to whisper, to even murmur that I miss you, would you come? Would you suddenly appear by my bed, by my broken body and look down at me? Would there be pity in your eyes? Or would there be love? Regret? Would there be…..anger?
It wouldn't kill you to let me have you, to let myself wrap around your body would be like a breath of air, when there is nothing but the smothering darkness. Do you even understand what I'm saying?
I'm lying here, waiting for you to come for me, because I called out your name. The window is open, the curtains waving gently, and the photos that overwhelm my bedroom walls are being pulled away. Because the wind has sticky fingers, and it wants me to forget about you. I don't think I want to forget.
There's blood on the sheets, on my skin, I can taste it too. I always thought it tasted sweet, but now, as it slides over my tongue, it tastes so bitter. I think if you were here, it wouldn't.
It wouldn't.
The lights are off, they hurt my eyes and I don't want to see myself in the cracked and broken mirror. Because I fear that it is not the mirror, but me, who is broken and cracked. I wonder what I must look like, my face awash with tears of loneliness. The red tracks of blood that run from my numb lips. Eyes wide as I stare blindly at my hand, fingers curled, holding onto something so tightly that it begins to cut deep, but I cannot open them.
"Something is missing." I finally whisper.
This thought hits like a tornado and with a scream I realize that I can't feel you, that it's as if you've cut yourself off from me, and I can only feel a dark oblivion where I used to feel your heart. I cry and shriek, hit my fists against the bed; my hurt is so strong. My head hits the pillow, so tired I can barely say these words Something is missing Something is missing Something is missing Something is missing
Something is missing Something is missing Something is missing
Something is missing
I cannot feel the breeze, nor can I feel the moon as it rises over the clouds, I used to feel it….I used to.