The Affair
Did I ever tell you why I left? I'm standing under that streetlight, looking straight at you, your lips are twitching, and the moment is ours. We're out of a book, you say, but I'm in a fairytale from hell, singing lullabies to wake the demons that claw at our minds when our hands touch. You're writing our story on the back of a branded coaster, and I keep it in that drawer I keep for us. Yeah that drawer that I tell everyone is for special things, but is only ever yours. I was only ever yours. (I've got bits of you left in the back of that drawer. I put them back together like a puzzle every morning. I watch our story like a Netflix addiction. You told me of an ancient language in an ancient land. They sculpted your name from straight lines and I'm trying, but my chisel's gone blunt and you're still not here. What now?) Guilt crawls out of the bush I have you pushed up against, you shrug it off, wink at me and kiss me again. And again. And again. We're eating breakfast. Your mum loves my scrambled eggs, you love watching me make them. My t-shirt slips off your shoulder, we slip out of space and time and it's all okay again. You're swaying to my favourite song, drinking my pretentious coffee. The book you promised you'd read falls off your lap when I kiss you. We can make our own stories. You laugh, like I could ever tell a good story. You were perfect. You were a promise. You were a broken promise. That's why I left.