Haunt·ed
1. (of a place) Frequented by a ghost: "it looked like a classic haunted mansion".
2. Showing signs of mental anguish or torment.
Your fingerprints litter my skin like bruises, and just like with bruises they hang around long after their cause is gone.
Just sitting there.
Taunting.
Just lounging around on my body, my books, on the wolf shaped coffee mug you brought me for Christmas. They're skattered around the house and they just linger.
Like ghosts.
And they should be gone, just like you are but they're not, and I wish you were still around too.
XXXXXXX
Debacle
1. a sudden, disastrous collapse, downfall, or defeat; a rout.
2. a total, often ludicrous failure.
It's a Wednesday when you find out.
You've been back from your business trip two weeks and for the first time in months I'm comfortable with us. I'm not flinching at every thing I say, we're back to sleeping; cuddling, in our bed. There's trust there just like when we started up.
We're not perfect but we could be and I cling to that hope.
And yeah, you might have messed up, but I messed up even worse so it's okay, because you don't know and you'll never know. I can live with the guilt because I'll still have you.
That is until you find out.
God, I couldn't catch a break if it hit me square in the face.
Because Danny is Jackson's best friend, and Danny can't stop talking about the gorgeous stranger he went home with last weekend.
The irony is almost too much to bear. I almost want to laugh or scream or jump off the nearest roof.
You find out on a Wednesday and it's the worst day of my life.
You look so sad; fifteen and broken hearted and It makes me want to stab myself with the sharpest object I can find just to share in your pain. Because this is so much worse than what you did to me and yet you know you can't be too mad because it's similar, so damn similar, and I forgave you, so now you need to forgive me.
I know you won't forgive me.
You can barely form words, I'm not sure if you're really even breathing.
It's a Wednesday when you pack an overnight bag and shuffle from our apartment with the keys to your Jeep clutched in your fist. Your knuckles bleached white from the strain.
"It's okay," you stutter, a twisted smile painted onto your red raw lips, "we're all evened out now, fair and perfectly square."
I'm grasping at thin air as you leave; out of breath and time and excuses.
Your phone stays off all night and by the time I fall asleep the suns up and the world spins on.
XXXX
Bom·bi·nate
1. Buzz; hum
"Five minutes, just five, I beg of you!"
You pause for a second, pondering with your pointer finger to you lips as you hum in consideration.
A grin overtakes my face unbidden. I love you like this, when you're hyper active and so full of energy I'm almost afraid you might burst with it, but my dead line is in three hours and I'm nowhere near done and you just won't stop.
You're a constantly moving tornado and good god am I forever going to be a casualty to you.
"D'ya know what? I don't think I will!" you cry, pouncing over the sofa to land, a squirming heap, on my lap, crumpling my notes and sending my pen scattering across the floor .
Some days you're more of a lap dog then Isaac, screaming 'lovemelovemelove' with every flail of your long limbs, and so I do, even if it means a pissed off boss and having to write the worst articles the paper has to offer for a week.
XXXXX
Met·a·phor
1. A figure of speech in which a word or phrase that ordinarily designates one thing is used to designate another, thus making an implicit comparison.
You're a riot. You're smudged ink and misspelt tattoos. You're an eclipse and you're a tsunami and you make me sick to my stomach with excitement and knee quivering fear. You're a drunk archer firing an arrow at the apple balancing on my head. You're a pebble polished by a stream that has somehow found its way to the ocean. You're a snowflake, fleeting. You're the best in me and occasionally the worse.
You're everything.