𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙟𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙨 •• [𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧]

Unknown force

I don't love you.

You tore my soul apart.

I waited like a dog waiting for the loving hand of his owner to brush his fur after a long day out. I waited so long that my legs began aching, and my fur started changing. You'd think it's too late, after all, you were scared to come home, fearing the dog would turn on you and bite your guilt-filled fingers.

I don't love you.

I try to avoid the subject and think about work instead, earning money, friends, the future.

I'm so scared that if you were to fool me again I'd fall for it, and all my hard work would be pointless.

You're like a sweet enigma, too salty for my open wounds, yet even tho it burns, I keep coming back, 'cause I hope. And why do I hope? For what? Maybe that you'll change, or that all this time you were sharing my thoughts and my feelings, even if just partially. It sure is scary to think you've been alone so long imagining conversations that will never happen, not even brushed by the other person's mind.

Do I miss you?

I stare at the stars like I stare at the screen when your favorite song starts playing. I avoid your name like I avoid the pile of trash judging me in the corner of my room.

So I wait. I wait for you to keep your promises, for you to reach out, like it's the last thing you could do before the end of the world. But then again, while my fingers birth poetry, you rest your weary eyes, with the awareness of being safe, 'cause you'll wake up, still surrounded by the love I so longed to give you. I didn't want it for myself. I dreamt of treating you better than your own blood, of shielding you from whatever could hurt you.

I miss you.

I'm facing a wall, my words can't get through it, I can't get through it. I can verbalize all my thoughts, at the cost of loosing my credibily, my dignity. Does it really matter? I keep on wasting my time, my breath, my strenght over you, just so it can reach you and maybe tomorrow, along with your priorities you'll think of me. You'll think of the few thoughts that have made their way into the wall surrounding your heart.

The regret of having wrote again of you instead of giving time to my precious last night, is starting to consume me from head to toe. My dark circles hide the stories of the endless hours I spent, figuring out a way to free myself from the many chains hooking me to the past.

But I miss you the way I miss clouds in a hot, sunny day, or the way I miss sunrays at 5pm on a February evening, and all I could ever wish for, is for you to miss me too. To miss me like the night in a school morning, when you haven't had enough sleep.

I so wish I could forget, and that you could forget too, so we could do it all over again, better. How could that be, tho? You moved on, and I'm not your dad's favorite anymore. I can't sing for you, I really wanted to, but I never had the chance. I can't "hug you goodbye", I can't doodle on your arms, laughing and not worrying about a thing. I had to grow up. I had to teach myself techniques to avoid becoming a social inept, becoming a hermit surrounded by other people.

I remember your nightmare. You told me it still haunts you at night, and I never understood, I never got if I really mattered to you.

What probably hurt the most was remembering every nice thing you told me, every advice and every recommendation you didn't apply when the time came. "Communication is key" am I right? Yet, like a fawn who runs away at flashing lights, you ran, and hid, and changed, grew into a full grown deer; now you don't need me, and you're not scared. The same flashing lights that kept you from saving us are but fireflies to you.

Love, what a complex word. Do I love you? I don't know.

I don't know how to feel, and I don't know what I feel, all I know is when you're close to me I breathe like an asthmatic, and my heart beats like the one of a cardiopath. Ironically that's the same way I feel when Spotify advices me one of those old fashioned songs you so like.

The salty rivers burn their way down my cheeks, and leave a desolated, red desert; now I can't see. My hands shake, and my voice breaks at the mere thought of you, in front of me, looking directly in my eyes the way you used to do. The memory of you dancing with me, lifting me and greeting me with a tone of promise towards tomorrow feels like a beast's hand grabbing my heart, squeezing it tight enough to make my skin turn blue.

I see it, you didn't forget, but it's not the same, cause it already wasn't the same back then.

This is ground control to you, drifting away, I hope you're happy.

If you ever happen to think of me, if you happen to dream of me, remember me, or even miss me, well, I guess you'll find me waiting, unable to be mean or show my teeth, for some force I still don't understand.

- September 11, 5AM, 2024