theres another world beyond these doors. soft lights and warm sounds. her soft voice sways like a symphony, making me dream of sunshine. i can see her through every crack. my hands tingle, they are tempted towards the noise of magic and away from this noise within my many minds.
my tears fall like drizzling rain drops in hope of washing away the grime of life.
i want to go through these doors, i want to be next to her i want to hear her music up close.
instead i am confined to this room, reaching a state of irregular numbness, i close my eyes and let the darkness feel me.
she has no idea how dangerous she makes the people to themselves when she’s around. sometimes, i’d trade reality, for her. an alternate universe, imagined, but in it, becoming, something better than myself.
i know i shouldn’t be putting myself through this, i know this torture won’t ever have and end game, but how can i help it if her existence embodies what i was, what i am, and now the very part of me that made me feel worth something isn’t there anymore.
i woke up the next day at dawn, there was something strange about the sky, when the sun scrambled from its ashes, i didn’t remember much of last night, a mixture of smells invaded my space within seconds of my consciousness, charred wood, soaked skin and burnt cigarets, the room lay torn around me, somehow i couldn’t figure out which tornado took place here.
i looked for her in the ruins of this storm, and with every corner turned, a mangled semblance of our lives together, scattered across this apartment in the shape of an endless summer.
i never question this empty vacuum of space when the sun is awakened and beaming, but dawn seems to have an affect on every strung out mind within my brain, its times like these that i notice how i live like I’m waiting for something to save me. everything i own, everything i am, nothing but a religious residue, from a life left behind.
i live in limbo, stuck in a labyrinth, running in circles in search of her. with my nights being spent in distraction, and my mornings dedicated to figuring out what exactly happened, this feeling will get deeper, it will sink farther than any soul i once had, the time seems longer and the days all look the same, colored in the darkest shade of grey, do i dare dream of my own fictitious ending? do i dare stumble upon thoughts forever hidden?
i could have been safe without her. her sharp knives scraping my life away, clumsily shaping my realities into something unrecognisable. shredded and dissolved, a life together apart was always inevitable.
I’m still waiting for her to put the knife down, to let me go, so i can remember how to smile again, the kind of smile that doesn’t involve her. my mind is preserved inside her world, ageing strangely as if she wants me to live forever, to never understand why i can’t. in her world everything is possible, thats what makes her dangerous. the very reason my end seems, as anything and everything that involves her, inevitable.
and maybe that is my reality a fictitious end.