Thursday, February 2, 2017

You and me, yet never us

one corpse filled with feelings. 
a creased letter. 
Creased, like our last night
when we burnt in fire.
Fire, like the one that
sparkles in your eyes.
Your eyes know how to crush mine. 
Oh, how many times my throat had been hurt, 
by the edgy words I swallowed!
Words like "you" and "me". 
If you'd make me choose 
I would have chosen "and" 
us my favorite. 
That's what makes us "us". 
Us until we come to the turn of the road. 
Then we change, 
We take off our masks. 
Masks like the ones you wore 
when you told me you loved me. 
They stayed so long,
they became your skin. 
Apart from the glare in your eyes.
Your eyes stayed intact.
Oval, brown and dangerous. 
like all the edges we walked together.
Together because we were alike.
Alike we were together.
When we changed we separated.
Separated, like two planets out of orbit
or two seasons out of time. 
Time that the clock ticked away 
always with violence. 
We couldn't find peace nowhere. 
Yet in this violent nights 
I was laying in your arms. 
In your arms
the only place I was meant to be. 
Like I was an extention of yourself; 
a missing piece trying to fit back in. 
Yet in the morning 
you always let me go. 
Until then we were nothing but ashes.
Ashes like the ones you left 
laying-spraddled on my heart. 
Whatever I used to love 
you killed it. 
And I would have killed your idea in my head
hadn't I loved it so much, 
even if it kills me. 
"Kill" a verb made for you. 
Your love is made to kill; 
made to paint my body with 
the ugliest shapes of blue. 
That's what abides for me;
"Me", "You". 
"Mine", "Yours";
The seperate pronouns 
haunt me.