Member-only story
Phoenix Tears
In That Haze — No22 (Micro)
Dear Hal,
I know you’re not the type to reminisce, but here I am. Trying to understand you even though we’ve grown apart. Every day, I take the long road home just thinking of this thing that we lost between us. Every day, I wonder what it would be worth if — someday — I just went off without you, disappearing into the horizon.
We had love, and then we lost it, and now we stand at some altar as if that’ll make any difference.
Do you even love me anymore?
I wear your ring in silence, but you don’t talk to me anymore. Your eyes are always for your screen, your vinyls, your stupid friends. You jet-set, and you try to understand, and you lose every time.
I close my eyes at night and wonder what’s going through your head.
“Don’t ignore me,” I might say on one of the better days when the demons aren’t knocking on the door to my heart. “Don’t leave me here to die alone. I’m a goddamn firebird, yet here you are — acting as if I’m nothing. Acting as if I’m just one page in your illustrious story.”
I ask you again and again what’s wrong. You tell me it’s nothing. Your eyes retreat, but the pain is palpable as if I can taste it on my tongue. It would be bitter like ashes.
