I had to figure that short sentence out over many years of trial and error. I finally figured myself out, if I fall. I need to prepare a parachute or be the anchor. I wish I didn’t fall apart so easily, but that’s not my case. What about yours? Do you ever just shatter as you remember their last fragile touch? The softest one. The one that wasn’t supposed to break you, but it did. It was the lightest of fingertips, but still… I break.
And I don’t think I’ll ever be okay. I’m not fine. I’m not happy. I’m not through with you, but isn’t that how it ends every time? Someone leaves happy. Someone leaves sad. I tried to lie about happiness, but you can’t fake it until you make it with that concept. It’s a mirage and you’re the desert. The sands of time slowly becomes quicksand; drowning & suffocating. When memories are all we have left, we try to make room for others. That’s also a lie. We’re liars. There’s no going back. Just more cracks and tombstones because every night, you die. A million times over for every passing minute. You’re digging your own grave because of them. I said it’s time to let go, but how come you can’t leave me in peace. It’s time to rest in poems because lately the thought of going home is utter and absolute bullshit.
“There are a million things I would like to tell her but for some reason they wouldn’t come out when she’s in front of me,” he says..
“I wanted to tell her that I wished we could have a chance to make each other happy. That it would be my pleasure to be the reason why there’s a smile plastered on her face everyday. I wanted to tell her that even with her sweaty hands I’d still wanna hold them. That I know when she wants coffee or tea and that I was willing to make her a cup when she feels like it. I wanted to tell her that I wished it could’ve been me and not him,” he says..
You can have my patience. You can have my rowdy emotions. You can have my arms. You can have my legs. I’ll be open. I’ll run with it. You can have my smiles, even the fake ones. You can have my pride. You can be my shadow and I’ll be yours. You can be my morning and I’ll be your night. You can have my thorns and I won’t prick your fingertips as you use them to write. You can have my eyes, I want to wake up to this. You can have my promises, I plan to keep them. I have to do that much for you. I know I’m forward and direct, but you asked for this. Trust. Truth. Honesty. It’s all the same. You can have it all. Every little piece of me that has been broken. You can be my everything.