dumpfmoebel
I feel like it's not mine. I wiggle the fingers of my left hand. Off. Look into the mirror. One eye stares offensively. I close it. All is well. And I still don't understand.
Let me in. I beg you, let me into you. I shake your shoulders like one would shake the majestic wings of a gate, but you won't give in. I tried to bribe you, tried to seduce you, but your soul stays closed, the port into you stays closed forever.
I'm staring at nothing. Blank. Blank space. Or is it a wall? Pay attention, someone scolds me, but I don't want to. I've zoned out. I'm out of the zone and I have no desire to go back. It's comfortable out here, comfortable and empty and wallpaper white.
Sword and sabre collided once, twice, and they stared into each other's eyes. Predator and prey? None of them could decide what they saw. "I want you." It was a metaphorical battle and he already knew the outcome.
I have no idea. No. I have an idea. A vague idea. I stare at my hands. At the empty page. It forms inside my head, stretches out slowly like a young oak. And suddenly, the oak's leaves turn green. I know what I'm going to write.
I nod. He smiles. I put a hand on his shoulder. Congratulations. The smile is contageous. I turn around and give a thumbs up. Well done.
We stay up at night to read them and we savor the messages they deliver. 3:46, the screen illuminates the room and stings in our eyes but we smile at the words even though we can't make them out with our hazy mind. Not properly. We will have to decipher it in the morning when the ringtone isn't muted anymore.
writing since 2012 · 8 entries · 8 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Kim showed up.
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the words Kim reaches for
eyesideasmilehandemptyblankcomfortableshakestaysclosedjumpeddaggerpiercedheartswiftlyflesh