Comfortable

"Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for." -Bob Marley

Smelling the leftover raindrops

Among the blades of grass,

I craw out from underneath

The covers,
Hesitant to leave your side,

Still sleeping.

You lay there, eyes delicately closed.

I kiss them

And they flutter,

But you don't wake.

Careful not to rustle the blankets,

I slip out the door,

Impulsively slidding on a pair of sandals

Before escaping the

Barely unavoidable bang of the door.

A chill grabs my bare legs

By surprise, and

I fold my arms tightly

In an attempt to keep the heat

Within my body

That you once held.

Sure, the sun is just peeking

Over the horizon,

But it is not supposed to be

Only fifty-something degrees.

Purple clouds

Mesh with orange,

Forming a peachy-lilac blend

Distinct to this particular morning.

A firefly

With a broken wing

Flies by, still struggling

To escape the morning.

His light timidly flickers

But will never shine

As bright as it did.

This simple insect

Reminds me strangely of myself,

Still very much alive and flying,

But damaged by

The past's thrown daggers,

Removed but leaving scars.

Instinctively, the firefly

Lands on my fingertips,

Tingling simarly

To how I feel when you kiss me -

Familiar, understanding, warm.

And suddenly the firefly

Can set of on its own

Journey, by itself.

A wind picks up,

Tickling my knees

And weaving in between my toes,

Sending shivers

Up to my shoulders,

Like a simple stroke of your finger,

Tracing my evident veins

Shining through

My pale skin.

The sun is fully in view,

Still barely relying on the horizon,

Just waiting for that

Last string to be cut

So it can be free.

And the backdoor opens, your face tired

But your eyes awake

As they meet mine,

Ready for something new.