That Blue Light | By Maryam Khamesi
It would be a lie if I ever said
the layers of my skin don’t fold and tear
when I come across a photo of yours
as my eyes remind me
the years spent are now a scattered memory
and I realize I don’t want someone new
to be a part of the same cycle
where a stranger becomes a friend
becomes a lover and a stranger again
and all I’ll hold at night
is the regret that I ever tried
that I put down my wall for once
that I shared too much
that every feeling I planted into your soul
doesn’t belong to me anymore
and is gone with your presence
with the pain I clutch in front of the TV screen
at 1 a.m. on the couch feeding my pathetic heart
my loneliness that consoles me with darkness
and laughs at me in early mornings
when I wake up to an extra pillow beside me
when I sit at a table for one
when I walk on the streets with cold hands
glued to my empty pockets
missing the fingers that would provide warmth,
still waiting for that blue light on my phone to blink
to prove I still have a reason to be this attached.
Maryam Khamesi is a Chapman University MFA student who enjoys writing lyrics, poems, and short stories.
Featured Image: “324/365 – Light” by Stuart Chalmers is licensed under CC BY-ND 2.0
