Hash

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Source: Pinterest

I imagine you as hash under my fingernails.  A heady reminder of the night that was, hard to remove, harder to forget. I come traipsing back to you, like an addict, somehow each time hungrier for more.

Your effect lingers, in the way I look at myself in the mirror, in the way I do my eyes (exactly as you don’t like them), and smile to myself. You make me want to bring up your name in every conversation I have, for the sound of the syllables of your name dispel the emptiness that is missing you, even if only for a few seconds.

I don’t have words enough to tell you how it feels to miss you.

You are an aching, craving, yearning, pining, burning addiction. Missing you is like a piece of me is being carved from the inside, looking everywhere for the exact effect your smell has on me, and the way it makes me dizzy, making me forget to breathe.

The memory of your touch is enough to send shivers down my spine. My skin still remembers the way you dig your fingers in, as if marking your place in the territory of me.

Your words dance in my head, making me smile at random moments of the day. Sometimes they make me sit up in the middle of the night (like now), and bleed my heart out.

At times I wonder how wise it is, craving a human being so much.

And then I remember it is not in my control, and I let the old trusted keyboard fill out the words I am afraid to say.

Inspiration credit: Facebook post by a long-lost friend. Thanks, A. 
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