They came over me, the ghosts of my past. Flooded through my heart the minute I drove into town. I walked into the first house I ever felt like was home and felt his hands close over my heart.
My body curled into the couch where he kissed me with a passion that scorched my soul. I showered, velvety suds rinsing down the curves of my body. Like all of the promises he made me over the course of our relationship. I lay in the bedroom five steps away from the walls that contained our affair.
The next day my heart only had a small tear. Something I could ignore. Something I did ignore.
Laughing with a friend in the car, watching beautiful cotton clouds in the sky. We pass a house, one that reminds me. Someone else is nearby. And suddenly I remember the texture of his hair in my fingers. The ice blue of his eyes drinking me as I writhed underneath him. I remembered what it felt like swimming in him. I remembered every false word that took root in my heart. Growing there, a barren tree of promises.
A lightening struck forest.
Here in my chest.
There are moments that it feels like I’m breathing in ice. Cold burn searing my lungs.
Tonight it doesn’t matter how many blankets I pile on this bed. It’s freezing next to me.