It's happening again. I am awake at 4am to the terrifying undeniable truth that there is nothing I can do to stop the monster.
Oh my love. Tell me what I should do. The chirping birds tell me of lands undiscovered, to not just sit and accept my convoluted fate. I'm a fish now, I am the sea. Tell me, how does one fight this battle, who does one defeat, who is victorious? I can smell the fear when you look at me with those bold, languid eyes.
I try to hold your hand, hold your heart, but I think I have forgotten how to. Or that you will not let me. I know what you're thinking. It is present in the scent of your clothes, in the pity nature of your kisses- what's the use? You are convinced of my lack of self, my lack of devotion, of anything worthwhile. There is nothing here, I tried to tell you so many times. Yet you insisted you saw something in me: something pining for the union of light and dark.
I remember. I remember instances so ingrained in my memory that I cannot separate my dreams from my reality.
And yet, I am reduced to being a shell of my former self. No- I am now reduced to nothing. To words cut up and cut out then left alone. Stolen magic and stolen melody.
I breathe carefully, so as to not make it known that I have been crying. I lie on his shoulder, my fingers are feeling his face (always I am feeling faces, as if I know one day I will be blind or gauge my eyes out) trying to make his muscles talk to me because he won't. Trying to get his facial hair to respond to my nearness. They are oblivious, as expected. He opens one eye to stare down at me, and I look away. There is nothing to see here. Nothing that will convince him anyway. He has his mind made up, and I mine. In my dream, he gave me something beautiful, but it was dead, aptly wrapped in plastic. In real life, his response was blind and stupid.
I know the fault is my own. I have pushed myself to the point of no return. To a point where it is difficult to want to be around me because I carry the weight of antagonism in full view.
How long should I be allowed to go on like this? Empty and secluded, not really here, not really anything. Gutter and the wind. What new tricks have you been performing, my love? You release your warm hand from my tight grip. Don't you know that I love you? Don't you know I loved you from the moment you looked at me pretended not to see me? I loved you then, when we had nothing, and I love you now, when we've been given everything. I loved you when you opened, like a lily to the heat. I only have a second-hand physique, a frozen love that time cannot deceit.
I craze. I twist your foot, leave in anger and humiliation, leave you in pain and without a sincere apology. But I come crawling back, searching for the crook your arm so lovingly offers, I come back for the familiarity, for everything that was ever known to us that now rests in the lines of our palms and the pre-mature wrinkles of our faces. We both already know, so tender and young, that this life is going to be hell. We've made that decision for each other, we know it's only going to get worse. We've destined our happiness to share closets with each others' demons.
Next time you see me, I will be different. I have no wear or care for your preferences. I will come as I am, and you will love me for me.