Dawn Breaks, As Do I

A high desert college town in January spiced with unrequited love.

I pretend not to remember

The moment you kissed me in the cold, brown kitchen

While we washed dishes in cold water

And soapy, frothing bubbles

Struggling to form in the icy waves

I act like I have forgotten

How your room had no heat

And the thin walls were nothing against the winter

You could still hear every shift of the wind

As it swept up from the high desert farmland

The apartment was so plain, nearly bare, like your soul and it made me ache

That your bed was quite makeshift, mattress on a floor, a few thin blankets

I have mentally boxed the tapes

Of when you would try to hold my hand on street corners

In Wal-Mart aisles, next to frosted stacks of every sort of Oreo

I tried to burn the mind photos

Of how you would pull me close

To wrap us tighter in the blanket, and caress the pain, and fear from my skin

Because winter didn’t just tug at my tender fingertips

It froze me to the middle of my heart

I will drown the transcripts

Of the sweet things you persuaded me with

A cheerful bouquet of honeysuckle-sweet lies

What a thrill

What a heartbreak

What an attempt at a love you could not achieve

There is still no way to explain

How we kissed quietly over language textbooks, touching our lips to each other’s in awed hunger

Or as I lost myself in awe, you were just hungry

I thought you had all the love I needed

To redeem my desolated life

But you loved the weight of your losses so much more

In the end, the darkness swallowed your hope

And you chose to become a ghost

And I, a person.

Email launch specialist & executor! I write about food, technology, mental health, travel, TV & love. Always dreaming of an ever-more wonderful world…

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store