Poetry of Stephanie Bennett Henry, Uncategorized

Writing You

I will write you like a loss I can never stop losing. I will write you like the one who got away forever. I will write you like the burn my skin can’t stop feeling. The stranger I loved with all of my heart, the one I was lucky enough to know for a moment in time, the one I held onto like my life depended on it and still does. I’ll write you as though you’re still embedded deep inside of me, like forever doesn’t know how to end, like time is frozen in the moment our lips touched and tasted eternity, swallowing hello until goodbye was unheard of. I will write you as the moments that changed me, like a hug that I still feel right now, tearing me apart and making me new. I’ll write your eyes as the only oceans I’m not afraid to dive into. I’ll swim there forever without any fear. My veins are Ink spilling out your name from my throat, trembling across goosebumps that scream, Fucking God Yes. I’ll write you like it doesn’t hurt to write you. I’ll use these words as a tourniquet to stop the way I bleed without you. I’ll write you smooth like my lipgloss across your skin, smeared so deep everywhere that’s anywhere. I’m going to write you like you taught me how to be brave, how to be fearless, like any ledge I jump from will always offer a smooth landing. I’ll write you like I never knew crazy until your hands took me to the brink of insanity and I voluntarily walked through the revolving door of you, knowing it was a one way journey. I’ll write how the throne of you took me to heaven’s door and made me sing the a cappella version of every song known to man and I’m unplugged as I’ve ever been. I’m gonna write you, love, like you have always been mine, as though there’s no way I can ever lose you, because goodbyes only translate to ‘see you again soon.’ I’ll keep writing you like I can’t stop, because I can’t stop you. The words here are permanent, I’ll write them in blood, I’ll write them like a pinky promise that promised, like the birds of a feather we were and still are, will always be the feather no one else can touch. Like the flowers you gave me can never die, because I won’t let them. I’ll write like the kiss we sealed ourselves in forever with, like those kisses didn’t end, because they never did, can you feel it? I’ll write you as my own heart writing itself whole, writing itself alive, writing itself out of fear and on my feet never to fall again. I will write you as my best friend who taught me more in a week than a lifetime could hold. I’ll write the lines we crossed hand in hand, knowing there was no way back and I don’t want to go back. And I’ll write you like seeing you again is a promise we would never break, like you are still here and the sorrow I feel is from the way you healed me in more ways than one, a happy sorrow from that bittersweet time when our worlds collided and our souls showed us who we are. I will write you like poetry never existed until our eyes met and our bodies gave life to words.

Stephanie Bennett-Henry


8 thoughts on “Writing You”

  1. The curious mind thinks to ask, “How long was it?”, but whether measured in decades or a single kiss or some clock’s or calendar’s duration between, the experience of such love that changes the very ground of our existence takes us out of the realm of time and continues to live there.

    Liked by 1 person

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