A/N: ...IDK.
And sorry for double-space thing. I know it's looks awful. I don't why this site does this...
Glow
Remember.
Remember.
I can't
I can't remember anything.
Your name.
Your face.
Your name?
I can't.
All I remember
All I have
Is this moment.
This hazed, blurry, Scotch-drunken moment.
And what a shame it is, because now,
Now I remember you were beautiful.
What a beautiful, fuzzy-featured face you had
Right before you left.
Your perfectly tanned skin,
those pink blurs you called lips.
Damn,
Damn, I bet I kissed those babies like mad.
With force, with want, with love and lust and all in between.
I know because I remember now the times you would spread your lips to a smile against mine and laugh airlessly.
My hands on your waist, your back, your bra strap.
"Stop,"
When did this get outta hand?
When Zayne showed up?
When he asked for a smoke?
When I kissed you the way I always did?
I don't know.
… I don't know.
But I know when you called that elevator it hurt.
I know the ding! rang through your ears and stung, because it sounded just like it did on our way up.
I know the stainless steel door had a temperature that radiated and brushed past your skin,
Just like my new embrace.
The goosebumps raise your hair, scare your pores, chill your heart.
It's dark in there. Darker than before.
The lights go dim for lovers at night but you don't have one,
Not anymore.
There's hum that sounds like a bent plastic jar shaking on a faux-wood desk and it makes you feel like the light is swaying.
Half your face is enlightened, half your face is not,
switching every millisecond.
Your arm moves—it's almost shaking, hairs standing lazy on your skin, sitting drunk on your head.
L
And it glows.
And you cry.
Your knees feel weak, your eyes feel numb
and hot
very hot.
And you cry.
You sit on the floor and you cry, head hit against the floral-papered wall,
Watching the glow 'cause you can't miss your stop.
You can't sit in there all night and cry if you wanted.
And you won't.
The glow.
It shines too bright. Too cocksure when you're broken. A glow you wish you could be. A grape among raisins.
Had I glowed? Had I?
Had I glowed like the champagne on the bedside here? Glowed from the shine of the moon? Had you looked for way out, like the bubble suds, swirling around the cork once and again?
Oh, Miley,
You glow.
Twentyfour hours here and I'll know.