I realized that I was infatuated with the idea of you. You are fascinating. Extremely fascinating. But my heart doesn’t jump when I see you anymore, for I know we are not compatible.
The way you think, the way you move, the way you express yourself… it disgusts me, sometimes. But then again, I am going through a phase in which nothing seems good enough for me.
And once more, I’ve proven to myself that I have turned into my worst nightmare. Maybe this is my only chance to attract caring people in my life.
Words don’t rhyme into my head anymore. They’ve stopped doing so for a while now. First, in my mother tongue, then in English.
The energy is shifting. I feel the walls building up. I don’t want to feel caged. I was meant to fly. But, perhaps, in order to fully appreciate the result, my journey must be filled with hardships. Hardships. Hardships. Hardships. Hardships.
Like a broken record. Hardships.
I’ll surmount them. But not before I have a breakdown. Or two, or three… I am anxious. Because there is so much pressure on my shoulders. Great expectations. I hate that book.
Life is wonderful. But sometimes, it’s such a bitch. Yin and Yang. Black and White. Never gray. Gray doesn’t exist. I don’t exist when things are gray. I exist now. And all’s pitch black. I have some candles. I just need a lighter. But I never have a lighter on me. And people never want to give me one because they are afraid I will set something on fire.
As the sky starts to darken, so does my mind. Lightning flashes before my eyes. I want to scream until blood pours out of my mouth. My nails… I dig my nails into my palms. Rage consumes me. Those thoughts. They’re back. And so is my old friend.
We’ve never talked. Sometimes, I can feel him staring at me. Or it’s just my imagination. But when I meet his gaze, I swear I can see millions of questions floating around in the iris of his eyes. I don’t even know their colour. Is it brown? I think it is.
Sometimes, I am afraid to look at him. I’m afraid I will notice judgment instead of lust plastered on his face. I wonder if he finds me fascinating… if I arouse his mind a little bit. Does he think of me?
Cause I think about him. And his lips. And how much I would love to have them pressed against mine.
i am sorry i wasn’t a good friend
i am sorry i didn’t stay
beside you till the end
like i promised
i left you when you needed me most
sometimes i feel like it’s my fault
that you got lost
i don’t think i’ll ever forgive myself
for throwing you even further
into the void you slipped in
i wish i could turn back time
to the moment we were besties
i am sorry
copyright oceauxnic 2017