Nobody understood, nobody ever wanted to stay. Everyone ran and hid away – never attempted to abide me in their head.
Handful lies has been told, and most times, listening to them was easier.
It wouldn’t get through me, I uttered. You wouldn’t cross the line, I thought.
For countless chances, I wanted to explore the complexity of your mind. Once, I tried wandering your internal rips, wished to fill your internal holes. Unraveling you was the only thought I had, when I couldn’t even unravel my own.
I never knew what we actually were, and I was terrified you’d be the new reason I’ll listen to Blues whenever it’s 10:00 PM again.
Your palm would always wrap my hand, brushing the cold away through those warm fingertips. I might rue later for it was detrimental, but I’d keep on witnessing the veins inside your skin. I wanted to trace them. I was always tempted to wear you like a sweater to provide me warmth, despite knowing you have Ruins within. We both did.
I’ve never gotten any flower, for everytime, you bring me to your Garden.
We spent our weekends talking about future. I told you countless times that I don’t wanna think about the future anymore. Sometimes, the moment you expect you’re moving forward, you’re actually moving backwards.
I didn’t wanna think about future because the present was all we had, the present moments were the only ones guaranteed.
Because the more I know, the less I feel existent for what I currently hold. The transcendence to think about future scared me. I told you countless times I don’t wanna think about it anymore, for I know, what I currently have has it’s built-in limitation – all will come to an end.
I couldn’t be sure with tomorrow, but somehow we made it. I couldn’t be sure with the following weeks, somehow you were still there for me. I couldn’t be sure with the next month, somehow, we were still able to talk and clear what’s disheveled.
I hated to imagine you bringing someone else home, and think of me in the verge of losing myself repetitively.
Through summers, we worn out. Petals succumbed, the leaves withered, as thorns evolved rigidly piercing in me.
Humid ether seeped through my sunburned veneer.
We used to picture the same good kind of life –
Living in seclusion, away from the crowd, far from city noises.
Coffee on a balcony at 6:00 AM. Making memories every morning, staring into a big garden.
You chose your fate, I chose mine.
You choose to have family, I choose to be alone.
It could’ve been us together; only if you actually saw me in your head as part of your plans, but you didn’t. It couldn’t be.
I still wish you a good life. No matter what persist, you will have someone to walk back to. Even if you refuse, even if you fear telling me about your hurt.
I’ll watch you walk away, and I’ll just watch us in old pictures I stored when you were still around holding me.
