I Lose Senses Like I Lose People

December 17, 2018

 

One.

 

When I close my eyes and dream

there isn’t a person that passes by

who can see me suffering.

 

And all of the people look like me.

But nobody knows what it’s really like

to be standing in the center of myself

and still be unfamiliar. To have sight and

still not have the ability to see.

 

Two.

 

My sheets still smell like you.

I sometimes think your fragrance has

seeped into my skin. And no matter how

many times I try to cleanse myself of the

 

pain you caused me, I still somehow

smile at the idea of you being close

enough to be a smell hugging at the

hinge of my nose.

 

Three.

 

I can still taste you on my lips.

But I was told that palette cleansing

was required to move on. So, here goes

 

nothing. Spit the taste of you from the

bud of me. Rid my mouth of words

said in times where loving was like

your favorite sweet treats. Trace the

blistered gums with your tongue

and remember that even the

best candies rot teeth.

 

Four.

 

With nostalgia comes a rush of all

things haunt-like. Like the words, I love you.

Like promises made after midnight. Like

not knowing you have to love something

for the last time and never actually being

able to let go. The sounds that fill in the

silence of breaking.  A nightmare of

terrors. Better mute the pain.

 

Five.

I lose senses like I lose people.

At this stage of living, love has

paralyzed me. I can’t feel people

the way I used to anymore.

 

I don’t really feel much of anything.

I often wonder what feeling

actually feels like.

 

There’s weight, and there’s piercing

skin. Try not to let the feelings in.

 

 

Share on Facebook
Share on Twitter
Please reload

  • Black Facebook Icon
  • Black SoundCloud Icon
  • Black Twitter Icon
  • Black Tidal Icon
  • Black Instagram Icon
  • Black Spotify Icon
  • Black Apple Music Icon

Email: daniellepwill@gmail.com                      Phone: 803.466.1173                  Location: Washington, DC