TheWriteStuff

As one instead of two

These words, they ache, a burning in the back of my throat, yearning to be thrown, to be screamed at, to be torn apart (if you can take the bleeding, because I can’t); so what do you say? Is this the end or just another beginning of bad endings and moral dilemmas and decrepit dreams (I’m sorry, it’s just not me to keep my emotions bottled up inside); I crash and I burn and I whither and then I live again, a manic episode that swirls like a drug through veins that haven’t sweat such a substance in ages, for you (it has always been you, you know, my smile behind the tears, my reason, for breathing, for piecing together puzzles that never made sense before you and I as one instead of two for more reasons than three); I gave it all away—my words, my vengeance, my debauchery, my downward spiral of death; for you, for you, for you and the taste you blazed upon my tongue, like fire on fire, a fight never meant to be fought, a win never meant to be lost; and now, now we are here, caught in this contingency of beginning after beginning, without ending after ending, life never smelling of such a sweet scent.

And I,
I can’t take it—

Your perfect fingers
tracing futuristic idiosyncrasies
upon a dreams edge.

(kissedbysadness)