Though I know I shouldn’t, I think about you.
Perhaps you find peace in silent solitude…but all I hear is frantic…such frantic noise.
It frightens me. Your silence. It makes me doubt my place in your universe.
And what opposites we are. You, the wounded rock, me the restless bird. I keep flapping away, attempting to escape your stony silence, but at the end of a rushed flight, I find myself perching back on your strength. And what similarities we possess. Spurned by life, by love, by fate. Bound yet unbound.
And sometimes in the dead of night, with every nerve still, eyes closed, breath tempered…I can taste that kiss you deny me.
Sometimes.
I think about your kisses often.
The whisper of lips that barely grazed my lips. The injustice of desires that flared to the surface of my skin. The frustration when you backed away.
I watch you carry on day by day, as the sensation of your kiss turns into an ancient, barely present memory…
I wonder what you mean when you say no one loves you, when you know that I am tethered to your essesnce.
I wonder if I forgot how to love, if you can’t smell its longing scent through my pores when I hug you that platonic hello…
Though I know I shouldn’t, I think about you.
I’m certain that I’ve lived. Now that I’ve known what serrated silence can do to a closed heart.
Eventually I will breathe without the purity of knowing your kiss on my forehead
Eventually I will learn that sacredly silent language you so fluently speak.
If you inspire me in silence…imagine the magic I’ll create in melody…in words…in gentle speech.
Perhaps kindness isn’t blatant romance. But your kindness is romantic to me. It warms me. Embraces me. Revives me.
Though I know I shouldn’t, I think about you my love.
I shouldn’t but I do.
I prepare my smile every morning for the day you will proudly tell the world that you found someone.
Someone, who is not me.
I will smile, my love, while my arteries turn into ashes and my heart into molten mortification.
I will smile, and offer congratulations to you both, while all feeling will exit the tips of my fingers so that I will feel nothing when you shake my hand.
I will smile when I look at her, the woman who will turn your fear into courage….and I will swallow the stone in my throat.
Because I will know that her eyes can reflect to you, what mine could never seem to.
I will know that you finally see the magic that I have always seen in your face, your words, in your heart.
I will smile when I walk away from defeat, even as I remember how clinically you said to me that I was not enough.
I will smile, while I wonder whether it is my chocolate blemished skin, my addiction to words, my weakness, my strength that repelled you.
And on that day, when no one is watching….I will think about you my love, even though I shouldn’t.
And I will cry.