this will be the last
sitting
on the staircase
of your apartment building
arms around knees
balled
chipping salmon-colored walls
leaning on the black
shining railing
i've gotten closer
with this railing
than i ever did
with you
i've familiarized myself
with this cold step
the mornings after
makeup dripping
on my lap and hands
my hair spilling in tangled dreads
my body and soul worn inside out
like dirty socks
from not being able
to say
i love you
this cold step
it and i
shared our moments
last
i'm very glad to see that you're still writing. this entry evokes an impression of quiet suffering, a lament on the broken lips of a beautiful dream, and i hope you to find that you're somewhere miles away from that step; well, unless of course it or he is your muse for writing--then i ask that you suffer a little more for your reader's sake.
this is perfect. uuuhg :c