i never wanted it like this. i never wanted to bleed for it, all sparkling-water blood on glass and bandages that never hid anything; i never wanted you to feel like a knife, like a timebomb, tick-tick-ticking until you shivered into pieces on the carpet of my bedroom. where did all the bright places go? bright boy: bright smiles, bright mind, bright laugh like a clear lake on a summer day. now all i see is the dark. and i am afraid for you.
boy, you will eclipse without me – know it, drink it in like nectar, like a curse. if you walk away, if you pull the trigger of this gun and call it fate, you will fade and fade until there is nothing left standing in your shoes but an ache. put down the pistol – wave your white flag, kiss me and call me yours. to do anything else is to fall into dark.
and know that you are never far from me – i keep you locked in my knuckles, fastened around my neck on a chain, wrapped around my ribcage like a blanket. your choice is whether to come full into the light or extinguish all but your best.
i am here, and i am waiting.
- eclipse boy // abby, day 309 // prompt for anon