A year later and your name is no longer a match on my sandpaper tongue. There may still be an ache or two here and there, but I don’t taste blood anymore. We’ve fallen into something more along the lines of enchiladas, mangoes, and sweet mint gum. We’re pleasant. We’re not always the best combination, but we can certainly coexist.

A year later and we’re both out several loved ones. We’ve sat through too many funerals and not enough birthdays. You were my silent support and I was yours. When the wall came down, you weren’t there to put it back together. But you were there to help me get back on my feet. We haven’t always been so hollow and exhausted, but we can show the world what love once was.

A year later and the stares are few and far between now. We’re never together anymore, so the fires have burned low. I wait for the moment that our eyes should meet again. It will be fireworks or it will be embers. Either way, we’ve never been something I could pick up and run with. We’ve never been something safe.



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