Diamond Moore
Stories (1/0)
Bittersweet
You used to wake up every morning with a smile on your face, and I'd know the minute I opened my eyes that it was because of me. You used to wake up with me before the sun and gaze intently at my reflection in the mirror while I brushed my teeth, as if I was the water that your body needed after days of clawing your way through the Sahara. You used to see me. You used to kiss my fingertips while simultaneously counting your blessings. You used to kiss my breath away, then turn pale in the face, replacing it with your own. You used to sing the gospel to me. With me. You used to hug me so hard that the broken pieces in me were one again. You used to stroke my hair gently, reaffirming me of my own worth while my head rested heavily in your lap and my tears puddled at your feet. You used to hum "I love you," and other sweet nothing's into my ear until I was lullabied to sleep. You used to be my rest. You used to dance around with me in the kitchen to Stevie Wonder, and I watched as your smile doubled in size when I sang off key. You used to smile at me. You used to bear your soul to me. So much so that I felt the need to cover your nakedness up with the velvet of my voice, reassuring you that no amount of past woes or filth you felt clung to you would ever make me love you any less.
By Diamond Moore6 years ago in Humans