appendage

Your departure was everything short of my envisage - it didn't rain all of a sudden, my coffee didn't taste any blander, and I still don't know how to parallel park. I believed that we could be extraordinary together rather than ordinary apart, I was your appendage, but you were my phantom limb. You left me with the memory of your voice, sweet and warm but yet full of despair. You left a child behind in her rocking cradle, lost and craving the caress of touch. And you left me with space, nothing but shadows in an enclosed area, demarcated by blank walls. 

I miss the way it felt to laugh when you conjured loose change out of the holes in our couch, I miss the way the walls sang to the mellow of your guitar, and I miss the way I knew it was you coming down the hall when I heard the sound of your feet passing by. Missing you keeps me up at night and etches itself into my dreamscapes, it embeds itself into the subway rides to work and the pretense of an intact us on coffee dates with my colleagues. 

the appendage I was, loved you wholly. The appendage that I am misses you terribly. Irrevocably, phantom-like.

I remember watching you pack your bags, the hollow in my chest as I caressed the nape of your neck tenderly, taking in the subtle curve of your neck a final time. You held my eyes with the plea for me to give you a reason to stay, and I searched for the right words to say but there were none.

You pulled away at last and with the shut of the front door, you were gone. My last memory of you was a silhouette of despair, blundering down the path. and I watched you from the balcony, regret streaming down my face in tears.

Everything of me still loves you like a fool,

so in another life

i will leave you words

beneath your door,

beneath the singing walls,

very close to the place where your feet pass.

concealed in the holes of your couch.

and when you're alone for a moment,

pick me up,

when you want.

kiss me,

when you want.