Remembering.

I remember how I used to love the way my body would burst into flames                                     when you walked into the room – a ferocious fever possessing me.

             I remember your careless whispers and the way your eyes begged for my forgiveness    while my lips imprisoned stifled screams.

I remember that I used to love the way your arms felt like home                                                 when inside I felt storms brewing.

I remember how your eyes kept secrets, buried deep down where I couldn’t see.                                   I remember how your lips, soaked in lies, told me everything I wanted to hear.

I remember you used to say we were impossible,

         & maybe you were right.

© Gina Jenkins

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