Sarah

I am five years broken Your look Your smell Your sound Your touch Evaporated like the puddles you jumped in after a rainy day Five years of tears Two hundred sixty-six weeks of wet cheeks Forty-four thousand seven hundred eighty-four hours of salty showers on my lap Two million six hundred eighty-seven thousand forty minutes gone by since I begged to God. . .“why?” One hundred sixty-one million two hundred twenty-two thousand four hundred seconds ticked while memories of you licked my mind like a dog’s tongue demanding love and attention Which can’t be given to a pile of ashes Or a stone in the ground with 3 letters on it (R.I.P.) That spell out how your page was ripped from The Book of Life, Chapter: Clark Your existence is an unfinished story That will never resume for you to blow out more than eighteen candles on a birthday cake, Your birthday cake Always white with rainbow chips And two layers. . . just like my life With you. Without you. One layer sweet and full One layer bitter and empty I am five years tortured. Pictures contain your look Bed sheets hold your smell Music expresses your sound Family holds your touch Nothing is you. . . Your evaporated essence condenses into everlasting droplets of beautiful memories and painful realizations. Good thing I love the rain.