Between The Lines

at one i chained myself inside my closet, embraced every soft and hard fabrics i can get. at two i wiped the tears spilling like a river, gushing, flowing, destroying the walls i built. at three i confessed to never call or text you again. at three i deleted your number on my cell. at three i deleted your pictures on my roll. at three i saw your shirt and hugged it close. at three i wore your shirt and cried a little more. at four i confessed i miss you. at five i hoped you come meet me at my door.

at six and seven i fell asleep. at eight i withered like a seedling on a barren field. at nine i tried to remember what it feels to trace your lips with mine. but at nine i saw the signs, in my dream, vivid, engulfed by a blinding light. i saw myself inside a glass filled with icy waters to the brim, but you never came to sledgehammer me free as the light deemed. at nine i drowned. at nine i woke up with a start, the night was cold and dark. at ten the horrors came unbidden, unbowed. i removed your shirt, wet with sweat against my skin. at eleven i knew you're just another face among the callous crowd.

when the clock dinged at twelve i cried no more, i saw myself free and you're gone for sure. at twelve i opened the closet door, out i went and unchained my spirit from the floor.