Why is it why when I think of you I smell your breath before anything else?
The shake of my eardrums when youâd yell so loud my mind couldnât process it so it turned to pure frequency?
The scratch of your beard when Iâd hug you.
The smile youâd smile when you saw an animal you loved.
And how little you smiled about me as the years went on?
You cared for plants so gingerly and lovingly. Was it because they never let you down?
The roundness of your jaw and the wrinkle in your neck are clear as day even now, but everything else exists in airbrushed relativity.
I see the fire in your eyes, and the weight lift from your shoulders when you talk about when you were young.
I see the scars and bruises on your hands.
I feel your frightening intelligence that made me feel like I could never be as smart as you even at my best.
I feel the gentle way youâd carry me to bed when I pretended to be asleep on the way home.
The crash of my things being thrown around as you tossed my room for being dirty.
The way youâd casually criticize men for showing an ounce of femininity.
Your chipped tooth, your playful nature, your thigh scar, your glasses, your necklace i still have to this day with the bent whaletail fin.
Why do I see all the things that made you so human and all the things that made me so afraid of you all at once?
Why do I dream of speaking with you and remember all the ways you hurt me when I wake?
Why cant I just hate you and be done with it?
Why do you still make me miss you?
tangentwithtanner
jbbartram-illu
jacobvanloon
annaxmalina
theartofmadeline
