The honesty series
"Your writing is the most beautiful thing I've ever read. You say things that I'm afraid to say. You aren't afraid to say the truth when everyone else is scared to admit that that's the way they feel." -A boy in love. January 25, 2015.
He is no longer in love so no, he probably wont find this beautiful, or brave, he'll probably hate it.
I am not a nightmare lurking in the dark corners of your mind. I am not the ghost that reappears and vanishes in one breath that was drawn before the endless screaming. I am not the one that holds your unsteady heart in my hands and devours it whole.
I was never charming or deceiving.
I never lurked, or disappeared to reappear, or devoured.
I looked you straight into the heart and told you I was dead.
I whispered you shouldn't love me because I had the habit of turning into a poltergeist. I rattle, thrash, scream, and wreck the inhabitants of my heart.
I waltzed through the hallways and continued to remind you of my presence. My empty footsteps echoed quietly, but constantly reminded you that I was still there.
I never reached into your chest and pulled out your heart, because I knew what my hands could do. I was a restless spirit with good intentions. But good intentions didn't make me alive.
Don't act like it was a surprise when you realized I was dead because when we kissed I pushed your palm against my chest and told you "it doesn't change." You kissed me anyway as if you didn't care that my heart didn't stutter or stumble, you acted like you knew I was already a ghost.
So don't you dare turn me into your nightmare, your monster, when all I was was a ghost trying to be alive for you.
He is no longer in love so no, he probably wont find this beautiful, or brave, he'll probably hate it.
I am not a nightmare lurking in the dark corners of your mind. I am not the ghost that reappears and vanishes in one breath that was drawn before the endless screaming. I am not the one that holds your unsteady heart in my hands and devours it whole.
I was never charming or deceiving.
I never lurked, or disappeared to reappear, or devoured.
I looked you straight into the heart and told you I was dead.
I whispered you shouldn't love me because I had the habit of turning into a poltergeist. I rattle, thrash, scream, and wreck the inhabitants of my heart.
I waltzed through the hallways and continued to remind you of my presence. My empty footsteps echoed quietly, but constantly reminded you that I was still there.
I never reached into your chest and pulled out your heart, because I knew what my hands could do. I was a restless spirit with good intentions. But good intentions didn't make me alive.
Don't act like it was a surprise when you realized I was dead because when we kissed I pushed your palm against my chest and told you "it doesn't change." You kissed me anyway as if you didn't care that my heart didn't stutter or stumble, you acted like you knew I was already a ghost.
So don't you dare turn me into your nightmare, your monster, when all I was was a ghost trying to be alive for you.
That was an amazing post. True fire.
ReplyDeleteThank you, I miss your posts
DeleteAmazing as usual
ReplyDeleteThank you!
Delete