Intimate Withdrawal

I.

Craving your skin is more addictive than any drug I've ever taken.

No high could compete with the shivering anticipation of your drawn-out strokes.

Outlining my curves,

rubbing the edges,

brushing closer to the frame,

The bed your canvas.

Colored with pastel cries and pigmented sighs,

shaded in sheets and saturated sweat,

entangled figures release.

Finishing the work of art,

adding it to the collection of nights in creative delirium.

II.

Prolonged intakes,

doses reduce,

hunger gnaws,

bones turn to brittle,

thoughts insatiable

unless…

body shakes,

hands tremble,

Make it stop

don't leave

III.

Touch

Go

Touch and go

A touch and go

A touch and gone

IV.

won't due won't due won'tdueneedmore needmorenotenough notenoughwantingwantingwantingwantingwaitingwaitingwaitingwaitwantwaitcomepleaseplease

V.

full stop.

none no you no one left deserted abandoned erased

empty alone nothing blank

start over try again

clean recovered restored

wrapped up

sober

VI.

Still forms

Tender touches

Voice echoes in velvet

Eyes longing

Fingers twitch

Regret lingers

Just maybe…

Past remembered

Lines drawn

Inkblots taint dyes

Tools rust and decay

Your muse dead

VII.

I look at the gallery of memories that we crafted together but all I see are rough sketches.

Paint chips of previous highs and fragmented lies

Layers of tear-soaked hues and tinted rage

Peeling hushed thoughts and dried words 

The gloss faded and the sheen was gone

Nothing left but failed ideas and unfinished projects

Masterpieces are what it felt like,

But we did nothing more than stained palettes and broke easels.

About the Author

Hannah Carlson is a Junior English major hoping to be a poet in the near future. An active member of the book club at Arcadia, Knight Tales. A geek at heart that spends her free time reading, playing Magic The Gathering with friends and binge watching Netflix.