(photo via notepadhypotheses)
When I try to remember your face it’s blurry, like my mind ran the eraser of a number two pencil over the lines of your face, the freckles on your nose, your sexy mouth.
When I shut my eyes, I can’t see your face anymore. But I remember running my fingers over the small lines near your eyes, hovering gently over the scars on your face. I remember how it felt to kiss those freckles and the how your mouth felt on mine.
I can’t make out the shape of you anymore. You’re just a blur of muted colors as I run through the things we did together in mind. The weekends we spent in bed, devouring eachother. The afternoons we spent walking down city streets, your rough, calloused hands clutching mine.
Everytime I try to recall the details you become more and more unclear. You are rapidly fading. I used to struggle, have a tug-of-war as each color, taste, smell was pulled away from me. But now I quietly accept the disintegrating details, each tiny departure feels like a sigh.
Piece by piece, you are disappearing. And what scares me most is that I am okay with it.
I am letting you evaporate.
Submitted by Shante Cosme.
via notepadhypotheses
Random Daze theme by Polaraul
