Woe

I spent most of Friday afternoon attempting to figure out how to reach out to you. A year ago then our hearts melted into each other and we carefully edged our pieces together. We squeezed onto our memories and our subtleties, with matching space fit for us. We spent our days laying with words that carefully traversed your mind and snatched your heart. Little by little, the string slowly brought you in closer. The more I did, the more you were afraid. You never wanted this. You never wanted to love me this much.

But as is with everything in the world, eventually the roles were changed. You said this was a curse for you, so now I assume this is a curse for me. I've spent my days scribbling words coldly calculated to bring you back. You are the anchor that sinks me into the depths of an underwater love, where I lose all my breath and my conscience sinks deeper than my heart. I am sorry - my morality seems to have gone missing. Maybe I misplaced it next to your lips and my pillowcase.

I don't want to remain hung over you. You run into another's arms and blow kisses for the fiends. Could you have any more luck? The lucrative look you give will always get you another man when you choose to. Why can't I seem to let go? These words are the ones that you'll never know.

If I could only begin to forget you, then maybe I'd forget your eyes, wide and brown, constantly glistening even in pure daylight. Your walk with grace, with lack of care of the superficial, not worrysome at all. You've got character, and that won't ever be replaced. Your smile that shows genuine care and love, with your cheeks gently rolling up together like waves against the sand. You slowly tilt your head to a side and your hair swings by like silk curtains caressed by a gentle wind. Your hands entangled with mine were more than any word you could come up with to tell me that right there, laying your head on my shoulder, was where you wanted to be. Pace up the view and light a smoke to finally see the heart that is burning up for you. I got stains in my heart like cigarette burns and a pain that rushes through like a brick against my spine, dislocating every joint to leave me paralyzed at your knees.

I feel overwhelmed by your being, and it frightens me. How can it be that someone can be so masochistic that they just can't ever seem to let go the one thing that single handedly destroys them from the inside? My irony and my sarcasm won't ever journey out too well out of this. I am a hidden potential down your throat. I am the tip of your tongue. I am the words you wish you never said at all. I am every word you ever spoke, every single lie you have ever said, but I love it anyway. I am every word you want to say, every false step that takes you to the right direction. I am irony. I am the end - but always, for you, I am the beginning.