zshep
I teeter on the edge of sanity, knowing this habit will be the end of me. I want to crush this obsession, I want to quash it before my body betrays my thoughts. I want to rend apart all I cannot let go of, to wash my veins free of these stains. I want to be able to sleep at three past midnight without being haunted, to be removed from this madness echoing loudly and clearly.
My bitter sneer at the thought of you is how I stop loving you. My dismissive attitude at the drop of your name is how I walk away. My indifference at the sight of you is how I'll keep up my lies.
As though she had seen through the veil of adulthood. As though the world has already cast its weary gaze upon her already, the world barely knew her existence. As though she had been through the pains of leaving home, travelling across lands and seas to finally belong somewhere.
Twenty-one, she says, neither here nor there. Twenty-one, she says with empty bank accounts and a bitterness that causes everyone around her to be slightly more uncomfortable. Twenty-one, says she who has undoubtedly experienced a lifetime of loss and love, who can comprehend nothing more than the (first of many) existential crises only she goes through right now.
Now tell me, twenty-one, how your life measures up to mine.
Everything was in place. I stood there, gawking stupidly; you were busy, washing something. Leaving all my lines and most of my intelligence in my previous step, my jaw simply hung open because - once again - you've stunned me into oblivion.
No longer can I pretend I recognize words; no longer can I pretend you do nothing to my racing heart. Nor can I tolerate the harrowed aching through my veins and muscles, the desolation left marred by my highly imaginative mind. I sorely lack the courage to look into your eyes; I sorely need to hear your laugh again, that twinkle of a chuckle.
But foolishly, I have cornered myself. My heart may yearn for you but I know I can never make you as happy as you'd make me.
Old friend, how have you been.
I always forget how you ride along, just in the backseat as my automated day goes past. I always wonder if you're there but you reassure me with just enough doubt to drive my mood from hero to zero. So - welcome back, and enjoy this desolate wasteland you have created, this shell of a human barely functioning.
You have front row seats this time, no need to hide in the back. I welcome you to the madness you've bestowed: a Carnevale delle Tenebrae if you will. So - relax, I'll hand you some snacks in a bit, and let's enjoy the trainwreck happening in slow-motion.
I asked for a sign, I guess this was it.
Or perhaps I'm reading too deep into the lines and just connected the uncorrelated dots anyway.
M
My heart stilled so quickly yesterday. If any machines had been attached to me, they would have either seen my madness surface or an absolute flatline. I forgot to breathe in your presence. I forgot to think in your presence. I forgot to formulate sentences in your presence - more than that - words.
I stood like a fool, awkwardly asking questions that didn't matter, talking about the mundane things while my heart pounded away in my chest, my soul yearning to recognise something.
Again, maybe the dots weren't related at all.
I do not know how to stand around you: where my hands should be, how my shoulders should roll. I do not know how to look at you: where my gaze should land, which excruciatingly perfect part of you to not focus on. I do not know how to speak to you: what words could possibly come out of this fumbling fool to be worthy enough for your attention.
I thought I knew all I wanted.
I wore my heart upon them but you did not see. Perhaps you did but could not comprehend my crazed musings or the organized madness that I've created.
My eyes will forever trace the white hems of your shirt, to the toned curves of your arm. They will follow the gentle slope of your neck to the nape of it, where the brilliance begins. They will immortalize the shape of your chocolate eyes as they crinkled when you smiled at me.
I've spilt more than I should upon the clothes I wear, the words I speak, the melodies I write.
Behind closed lids, all I see is you.
You haunt it all.
I stared out the window, the hustle and bustle of the city passed by me without noticing. I ignored the magnificent buildings and the swaying trees, the summer light that cast its warm yellow glow, the laughing children and hurrying people.
No, I ignored it all for I couldn't keep you out of my mind.
Even an inanimate object that transports people send my mind reeling to the moments I have of you. How I imagine we'd meet at the bus stop and get to talking, how my stories would hopefully amuse you, how I would be fortunate enough to see the spark ignite in your eyes when you laugh. How I imagine us sharing a smoke, the night coating us in its enigmatic poetry and we will talk quietly, as men commonly do in the night. And I'd stare upon your beauty as though my eyes have been opened for the first time, my heart would soar at the sound of your melodic chuckle, my mind would yearn to know yours better.
This insanity has to be stopped.
I fear your chocolate brown hues have guessed my intentions; I fear your penetrating gaze has glanced into the depths of my desire; I fear your ears hearing the pounding of my thundering heart.
I shake in your presence, for I am humbled by the elegance and confidence you exude. My chest is wound with the words I will never say, the questions I will never ask. I quake as your eyes pass over me, setting my nerves alight.
Here I am before you, completely bare, completely naked.
All I'm waiting for is that smile.
One that fixes my day, one that enchants me. One that makes difficult days pass by slightly faster, one that quenches my thirst. One that sends shudders so violent up my spine, one that stills my turbulent heart.
Just let me know if you'd let me love you.
Five times I've met you, and only once I've decided to do something and before anything could happen, I saw the entirety of our possible future crashing down. You would have been the inexplicable smirk in the middle of my day, the beat my heart skips when I meet your brown hues. You would have been the involuntary glint in my eyes, the melody in each of my compositions. You would have been the insoluble fascination of my life, the unsung words to epics you've inspired.
You would have settled this turmoiled soul who has yearned for a fire to call home.
Yet I laugh, because what else if not for missed rainchecks and craved opportunities that could make a story worthy? If not for heartaches and tragedy, if not for tugged heartstrings and harrowed cries into the night?
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writing since 2016 · 17 entries · 17 days shown up
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