Dominic Riccitello
May 13, 2026

three sheets after

three sheets after image 1
svg
three sheets after image 2
svg
three sheets after image 3
svg
three sheets after image 4
svg
three sheets after image 5
svg
three sheets after image 6
svg
the wind feels so melancholy like a bittersweet afternoon trapped inside a memory you never fully leave behind the kind of moment that returns years later through scent or weather through silence through a song playing softly in another room and i sit here often alone frolicking through my mind wandering between thoughts and old conversations replaying every word in quieter tones than they were spoken in as if lowering the volume might somehow make them hurt less sometimes it all feels heavy the tension always building somewhere beneath the surface like pressure trapped inside walls and i transcend into fragments of myself pieces scattered across memories i no longer agree with versions of me that still exist somewhere in time even after i’ve outgrown them and i stay here not because it hurts but because i want to understand why things end the way they do why people pull away from softness why love frightens people more than loneliness ever seems to for this i will never fully understand and i touch you without ever truly feeling you the numbness exuding from your body quietly leaking through every movement through the pauses between your words through the distance hiding behind your eyes it reminds me of mountains in the distance the way they rise unevenly against the horizon the jagged edges the loose rocks slipping downward slowly pieces collapsing from the sides of what we once called stable and somehow that is how this feels too but i break within this not downward not completely apart but beside myself like i’m standing outside my own body watching everything unfold in slow motion the things we hold each other inside of the warmth we grasp at the fullness we create in darker moments when sadness grows too large to carry alone and touch becomes the only language either of us still understands i look for you in rooms where i already know i do not belong in crowded spaces that somehow feel empty the wind opening doors behind me as though memory itself keeps trying to return me to you a free verse conversation three sheets too far gone words slurring softly into vulnerability honesty arriving only after exhaustion i left you words entire conversations we never had sentences buried in notebooks thoughts hidden between unfinished poems confessions disguised as metaphors yet some people skip a beat at the edge of being understood and instead of finding something real they leave