A SEQUENCE OF DENTED EXPRESSION.

An eternity I have lived bound by the shackles of making sense, making visions, making rhymes but what I am to write is far too difficult to put into sentences of two and assign a rhyme scheme to it because, this isn’t some pretty poem of love and whimsical melodies that would be sung, but a testament of something that even I’m yet to uncover, writing sentence after sentence of words that next choose to come inside this organ of mine.

 I have always been the one begging someone to stay, as if they were enough to complete my broken self and in misery I’ve lived for far too long to contemplate that its true: how merely by the absence of someone I’ve defined myself as incomplete, that how simply I’ve resorted to a term such as lonely and how bluntly I’ve decided to believe in it.

I have lived far too long with the undeniable custom of looking at the stars, as if I were to be looking at myself in the mirror, searching for answers that I know lie well deep within me, but am too afraid to look because I know, if I go too deep I might see you there wondering, how long you’ve been and how much longer you mean to stay, and only wishing I don’t get the answer to either of the questions quite truthfully because, I know I would not be able to digest that assortment of information without truly becoming ill. You do possess the uncharismatic charm of keeping me on my toes, you’ve had it for years. It had always been magical how my toes would curl up as you reached deeper and deeper into me, how every cell of mine lighted up when your lips touched mine, and how I’d be willing to do anything for you if it meant I’d get to keep you closer even for a single second, yet here I am somehow left with absolutely nothing other than my memories, now playing back to me like a film on loop, scene after scene, and it’s all that I see every minute my eyes are open. I see you on the ceiling of my room night after night in the darkness, repeating to me the words that you once said to me in flesh, till the only window in my room fills it with the rays of the dawn. I go about my daily routine during the day, until I meet you again in the night.

I have engaged myself with the harsh query concerning how long am I to live my life this way? To hopelessly repeat conversations that over the time of their repetition are not even the entire truth anymore, but merely false words of my own that I’ve fed in your mouth getting better and better at every rerun. I no longer remember the words that you’ve in fact said to me, maybe because it mattered more to me what you should’ve said rather than what you did, and upon realization I see how senseless it has been of me to hang onto you even though you’ve really been so inconsiderate to me. I see now how my sense of judgement had been clouded by my own fantasies that I had given my all to you not once, not twice but every single time that you’ve asked. But strangely instead of being filled with resentment or indeed regret I feel your need once again. I see how it seems to me that even though my judgement had been clouded clearly my desires had not. Miserably I still desire for your arms around me even if it lasts for seconds, I desire for your lips over mine sucking and biting as if they know nothing else, I desire your hands all over my body as if they know no other place to reside and I desire for all of you for as long as I can because in the end the truth is darling that even though you lie in my heart and I nowhere on you, I still desire that these false conversations that I have in my mind with you were to be the reality of my life, how these fictional replays I have of us were actually true, how these unwritten feelings of mine that cannot be merely typed out or jotted down on paper, how I actually might be going crazy watching the replays of you kissing me knowing that in actuality ‘we’ don’t exist and knowing how easy it has been for you to substitute me because to you I know I have been nothing, and probably will be nothing for our insignificant eternities.

However, you should know somewhere inside me there shall always be a burning fire keeping me going through my rough days, through heavy rains and through scorching days, the burning fire of another truth, a much simpler and a much more unblemished truth that no matter how far you’ll go or how deep within you’ll be in someone else you’d never be able to forget me. I’d love to live believing the mere fact that you’ll be living your days woman to woman, city to city looking for a truth you wouldn’t know, looking for a mouth to kiss that you wouldn’t even know how it tastes and looking to hold someone who wouldn’t be able to hold you back the way you like to be held, looking for someone who would stroke your hair the way you like it, looking for me in every other woman and only hoping deep inside your heart that she was me and till your short forever, you would live in the absence of my presence, until a day comes when you would too like my present self-have replays of the conversations we once had in flesh and realizing all that you had said to me and all that you should have said to me or did not say to me because while I was fixated on your heart you had been an absolute imbecile to be fixated on other things.