• nadiyamukhtar 5w

    Wound.

    Some nights, it just gets too unbearable. My words crumbling, my thoughts tumbling, my feet stumbling all because I cannot find the right words to help myself.

    My heart wanting to escape through these ribs with the air from my lungs touching my lips and into the breeze reaching you, to drop a kiss on your lips and tell you, once again, how much I love you. I feel you in whatever is left of my soul, going back to conversations from nights you don't remember.

    I sit beside the window, smoking cigarettes, blinded by the smoke yet I see your face and think of us. On these Autumn nights, when the cold whiffs of crisp air cripple my bones, I crave for your warm arms around my body. I've been homesick for a long time now and I yearn to rest for I'm broken and tired.

    On nights like these, I keep going back to our little infinity and perhaps I understand why as a kid I liked picking on scabs, never letting them heal.
    On nights like these, I know you're my terminal wound.

    .

    ©nadiyamukhtar