2000 miles away, there’s your faint gaze. I rub my eyes, I swear you were only an arm’s length away a minute ago. That distant kind of love. That woozy kind of love. Empty and safe – a haven without a roof.
I make my way around the room. I look back. I beg to meet your eyes. I always did hope you’d notice, even the things you didn’t want to see. But your eyes, always milky and calm, oblivious to it all.
Your cold breath mutters a string of broken words that continue to shatter, over and over again, until a few disconnected pieces make it to my ear. Your bloodless skin, pale and cold. I never felt so small. Neither threatening nor threatened, like a white wall, you’re barely here.
You say I love you, I smile, and the sky seems to close on us both.
Vintage clothing & accessories,
styling & photos by Justin Markin