Remember What You Told Me
Do you remember the last time you looked at me?
Did you know then, that it would be the last?
There’s still space for your breath here
In my lungs
There’s still shelter here
Within my ribs
There’s still the hollow ache
Only you could soothe
Where your bones used to slot into place
Do you remember the last time you said you were mine?
Did you know then that you would lie?
There’s still an extra toothbrush in my bathroom
And a cup that molded around your touch in my kitchen
And a controller that sits next to the console collecting dust
And I cling to the extra pillow you bought from your room
When mine just didn’t do the job
Do you remember the nights we shared here?
There’s a stain on my pants I refuse to wash out
And I press on it sometimes
Drive my fingers into the fabric as I wear it
Bruise my skin with force of it
Just to mimic your touch
Did you know then they didn’t mean a thing?
And yet, if you walked in tonight I wouldn’t ask where you’ve been
I’d only ask if you’re staying
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