Twist that fucking dagger

At the top you see the date when this screenshot was saved, a year and three days ago. After trying for over a year to get my ex to take a vacation with me and failing every time (my ‘vacation’ weeks were spent at home, doing nothing), I had by August downgraded my efforts. I was hoping to take her somewhere for a weekend that we could be alone, off the internet, and basically be forced to talk and perhaps reconnect…hopefully work out what was wrong, maybe even begin looking to the future. She wasn’t interested in going. I knew then that things were worse than I’d thought. 

About a month later I would find out what was going on behind my back. And in the months that followed, things got worse and worse and it all fell apart, I fell apart. That’s not the point of this, though.

The point of this is that for a few hours today my mind was mostly elsewhere. It doesn’t take much; seeing a random screenshot you forgot was on your iPad from a year ago to destroy any progress you made over the day or the week or month. August seemed to have been going well, but things like this really twist that fucking dagger in to remind me of what was. Those emotions are still underneath, trying to hide or ignore them is useless. 

I know your heart

I know your gait, coarse, your splayed feet trudge through
only once they’re sure of their way.
I know your eyes that path the next step, the next ten,
lighting each moment to come, creating it between the grasses, the waves,
flares of soft white burning in the sky, forming all courses,
eyelids granting egress to the offing of your soul.
I know your skin, marble and sharp and heather and nectar,
aglow as you touch mine, as you trace your fingers down my arm
and in my veins. You kiss my back, bury your head in my shoulder. Turn your body
and press your skin to me. Enshrine me. Covet me. Love me. Cherish me. 
I know your bones that shift the earth around them,
turn the starlight to grace them and warm them,
your bones that carry my soul and blood within them;
your bones that are but a ring for the diamond of your heart.

I know your heart. I carved it.
With your hands on mine guiding each arc and turn, I forged it. Helped you chisel in my words, my name. I showed you how to form it, to till its furrows and seed them, to water and sun and to nourish it. To grow love in the arteries and chambers until the space itself within expanded, grand enough for me to walk in and sit among the green and the warmth, the flowers and the light within you, growing love. Tending the dirt, sowing love’s hard seeds, sunning you and watering you and whispering to you and touching your soft petals, your lush leaves, growing love like weeds, growing love. Growing love.
I know your heart, I slept in it for years my dear. I wept in it, for me. For my soul to grow its own garden, for you to take my hands in yours and tend to my unarable heart. It was time to take me in your arms and warm the frozen, arid soil in me, to wake me from my tomb. I wept in my death, in my lungs only curse, save when I breathed in your scent and your skin. I wept, I waited, and I walked, rotting, weeping without eyes, tending your garden,
waiting for you to return the favor,
begging for you to return the love,
praying for you to unlock the gate to mine.
To know my gait, my eyes, my skin, my bones,
my heart. To engrave it.
To shape it to fit just
perfectly
within yours.

part of what worries me now is that if i stop loving her i’ll never be able to start again. with her specifically, or with anyone at all. i can’t imagine anyone else anyway, but that’s not what worries me. what i fear now is that if the love, if being in love, stops for me, then when they are done with each other, i won’t care anymore.

this love is all i’ve really cared about for years. despite depression and fear, i’ve devoted so much of myself to her for years now. years. i didn’t make it clear enough, i didn’t do it well, but i did the best i knew. and given how much she fought against me and my help and my pushing for us and for her, i tried with all i could. she didn’t see it, didn’t feel it, didn’t appreciate or respect me for it obviously, but it was all i had in me. i just wanted to make her happy.

and today i still love her with all i am. tomorrow i will as well. but the day after that? i don’t know who that will be in my skin, in my bones, if he will be the same person i am today. i can’t guarantee that he will be me. i will always love her. but i might have to let myself go soon. one way or another.

i daydream of letting go and drifting into the water, the moon emptying itself into the water that surrounds me, holds me afloat until my lungs empty and i drown and am carried by the undercurrents to be ripped apart downriver. i daydream that my flesh is cold and there’s nothing else to worry about, that i don’t have to love her uselessly anymore, that i don’t have to wake again without her in the bed beside me. i dream of all these things and more, but more than any of that i dream about touching her hands and her hair, her eyes piercing my heart and opening it, every day, forever. her lips, her skin, her warmth. forever.

i guess in a lot of ways i let myself go a long time ago, when i fell in love with her. i just don’t know anything anymore, though. i really don’t. what i do know is that i will always love her, and i never want that to stop, and that i never want to stop dreaming.

echoes

the force of a train
right to my chest
my body is thrown
pushing away the air, the rain, the light
i see my own flailing shadow trace the earth as i rise against gravity
nerves screaming that my muscles are torn
my lungs have been emptied
bones already shattered
the taste of blood
the scent of burnt flesh
no sound
no sound
in that empty room
weeping into one another’s arms
bawling and heaving out words, empty
into silence, into nothingness
in waves they hit me,
still, the echoes
of a day.
echoes,
silent.

the regret

the regret tastes like blood, metallic and warm
  fresh from the vein
it buries itself deeper than even the guilt
  burrowing in lower
into the bones it grows, into the soul it roots
  flowers outwards
     from the tips of your fingers
     from the pits of your eyes

the weakness of his love, pitiful and worn
  flesh of the vain
it burns itself dimmer than even the lust
  sinking ever slower
on through the earth it goes, in the dirt and soot
  withers inwards
     from the breath of your lungs
     to the death of your heart

the diamond opens the door, bringing on the storm
  i kneel and wait, with orchids in my hands.
     love in my heart and my lungs,
     my eyes and my soul.

Gunner

The only music I can listen to anymore reminds me of her. Nothing else means anything when I hear it, nothing. I’ve barely listened to anything in weeks because almost every time I try I cannot enjoy it at all, or I break down in tears like I’m doing right now.

“My shadow has disapeared
So has my ghost
I’m still waiting
I’ll get you before you get me
So many people aren’t here
But I was meant for you
You’ll get me before I get you
So I see”

I cannot live like this. I cannot live with her. I can’t.

Your side

I sleep on your side of the bed every night now, ever since it’s been set here. Out of place and always empty, for months I’ve slept here. Some nights crying myself to sleep, most nights thinking about you, curled up here without you. Every, every, every morning I wake and think about you. How you should be here laying where I am, breathing quietly, away in a world while your body drifts here next to me. This is love, and love does not stop. All I have is love for you and it does not stop. It will not, not ever. Not now, five months later, not five years or five decades from now will my love be less. I knew it then and I know it now. It’ll always be your side of the bed.

Of Want And Misery

Some others’ words for today (I actually privately pushed this a few days ago, but the song’s been stuck in my head since), it sums up a lot rather well.

I watched you float away on a wave of want and misery
Now I’ve got to find you
I watched you float away on whatever caught your eye
Now I’ve got to find you
’cause I got to keep your head above the water
While the current pulls me under

And I will hang my life
In the space between the noose and your neck
I won’t let you die just yet

I will love you even when you won’t let me
And you will kill me by doing nothing
But I know it’s not you, my dear
I know it’s not you
I know it’s not you, my dear
It’s the nothing that kills

I can’t save you
Control is something out of my-
No, I can’t save you
Control is something out of my control

I will love you even when you won’t let me
And you will kill me by doing nothing
But I know it’s not you, my dear
I know it’s not you
I know it’s not you, my dear
It’s the nothing that kills

I can’t save you but I will love you
No, I can’t save you but I will love you
I’d like to think that this is love
Lost in second chances without end
And this is romance

(I’d like to think that this is love
Lost in second chances without end
I’d like to think that this is love
Lost in second chances without end)

the riverside


starless, cloudless, lifeless, endless nothingness trailing in the wake of her dress, sweeping the sands, she paths a way to the sea, the center of all, she stands at the shore, is the shore. is the sand is the waves is the water is the sea, she is all that can and cannot be seen. 

god wakes and wipes sleep from his eyes, dreaming over, light is born from her womb. she must see, he loves her and he loved her and he was awakened by her breath passing over her lips imbued with love, her fingers touched his arm and he knew all and they became love and bore light from nothingness and nothing else ever was again but her. 

his lungs arrest to see her there at the riverside, cupped hands raising the red water to her purple lips, all of creation within and without him is still, to see each moment each droplet fall back into the river, rippling perfection gentle waves crossing catching the light of the setting sun, scattering on the lace of her dress, her skin, silence pouring from her mouth as she drinks and breathes in the water, the river, the sea. he does not breath for the air is gone. 

all is revealed as all is lost all swimming flying leaping dreaming back within her again, all of creation but him. god weeps to be, created and abandoned. he sleeps, he weeps. the last grains of sand are taken into her and she is suddenly with all but empty, without him incomplete. without him, alone.

Hindsight

She has a way with words. They twist their way past my skull and logic and force some truths right deep into a part of my understanding that I didn’t know was there. 

I wonder if she’ll ever echo these words again, for me. It’s all I can think about, it consumes me, waiting for that love to return and to wrap us up together in itself, throw us forward. I can’t see any other way forward. I don’t want any other way forward. Nothing else matters but being there, with her, doing things right this time, to the letter. With no doubts, just growing and evolving together, I can feel that it’s somehow still possible. 

All the love I felt for you and from you was all that got me this far, it’s all that I have now. I should’ve never neglected it even for a moment. I’ll never regret anything more than that. I can see that now, my love. I can see it now.