Seared.

I lust after
skin and bones,
ribs that protrude
- attributes I've longed for on my own frame.

I lust after dark eyes,
the fearful look that life is destined to be too hard,
the look that could swallow you whole if you would only flow, insensibly, through it.

I find myself a nightmare, locked between a saint in life and a shameful creature in the vacuum packed container I've left at the back of the shelf.

You know nothing of me.

I wish I could only show you.
I wish I could provide you with the answers, as well as myself.

I have fished for hope and fought for a display of better behaviour and I have crossed you out;
crossed out your eyes and cut out your smile and worked out the creases you left in my tights.
I have dragged you away from the scene with the bottle and the pills and myself too.

I still smile at the moments I thought it would never get easier from there, you and I on that floor.

Somewhere in the future I can see a long stretch of sane actions, excellent choices and hopeful moments. In this future, I will smile more and feel more together, love more than I loved you; I will want more for and from my life.

In this lifetime, without you in it, I will have the happiest times, I will learn, learn about others and about myself, I will frequent places we dared not go and talk to people I wouldn't have let myself.

Without you here I will feel more than I could have felt, in a different sort of way.

You were the shadows creeping into the barely lit room.
I want to trust and adore the candle, flickering.
You were the moments that stole my breath.
I want to live for breathing.
You were and are and will always be my heart asunder, my scorned mind and my world uninspired. You were the feeling I could never go on and the reason to not get out of bed and the compulsion to please the disenchanted.

I am passed it now


(yet)


I lust after
skin and bones,
ribs that protrude
- attributes I've longed for on my own frame,
attributes I adored on you.