Cursive

I write your name in cursive.

You scribble mine out with slashes and lines amounting to a symbol only you recognize.

Now no one knows me. Only you.
You’ve left your mark.

They try to read me. They try to know me.
They keep reading your name….
They ask me if this is who I am

I say I am only hers who slashed my heart and wrote my name with lines only she recognizes.
I don’t want your confusion they say.

I understand i say back. Leaving me is only a matter of time. Leaving me now is only saving us both pain.
Kindness in the form of abandonment.

It’s the emptiness I crave. It’s the feeling
Of knowing you’re always running.

I’m high on your mountains and drowning in your rivers. I soar and dive in one swift motion. Hurting and cumming all in one swift thrust.

I’ve written your name in cursive.
So many times my hands no longer know how to write my own.
The letters come out in lines and slashes. The ones you marked upon my soul.

Until I can unscramble the symbols in my brain
I’ll keep writing your name in cursive. Soft. Gentle. Slow. Love in every stroke.