November.

The rain falls down again. No lightening to electrify so I can pretend. Pretend the the cold is just on the surface of my soul. Pretend that November isn’t just another marker for another end. 

I feel it it my bones. I don’t know how I’m supposed to find warmth like yours. Bundle in the wet leaves, I don’t feel the cold, just need the density…

As the rain comes down on my rooftop, as the cold freezes my toes, tears are warm and they won’t stop. I never learned how to let go. 

I don’t have that shirt. I don’t have that smell. No tangible mem’ry to keep you here with me. I’m sleeping in a warm bed, and with the pillows play pretend, you’re pushed behind me I can feel your hands.

But the rain comes down on my rooftop and the cold numbs my bones. The hurt is fresh and the blood flows as I never learned how to let go.

The lightening never comes. There is no eye ’cause the storm is never done. Wet with November living in cold remembers.

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4 thoughts on “November.

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