〉◦〉◦〉⌔ 想像します⌔ 想像する⌔〉◦〉◦〉

Holes /// Sojourn

|2| Sojourn:

I wish you were a character of which I could write the script and know just how to reply to make you smile.

I'd write you with the biggest grin and it wouldn't be a ruse, I'd make your eyes sparkle like the night sky you don't dare to peak at and all your woe disappear. Even now, I'm speechless- the words don't fit, they don't describe the feeling of void that I feel; no, not void... It's an overflow, a flood of light, brilliant, brilliant light that I am lost in-- illuminated by.
God, can I not do anything? Why is it my tongue is stolen by a midnight crow at your appearance; when I need it most?

Your words are clear but I am vague. Why are his simple attempts enough?
Did I not make it obvious I am here? Did I mess up again?
Damn, I need to refresh this conversation- I need to erase it, make it leave.

Your words are so short- I need more. I'm selfish and greedy. You are curt and needy and I am willing but you do not shine for me.
I wish to keep you to myself but you're swaying.
Too bright, you attract moths of all sizes, their wings are matted and broken and eyes void; yes, THEY are void. I am not. I swear to you, my body is warm- I am comforting... Am I not?

Are you tired of me? Was I being careless to think that I was the main attraction, no, I don't have the confidence, you blind me. It's too easy for fakes, so easy when it's not true and so difficult to describe to you what real is. What kind of wordsmith has such a dull tongue, such a used thrill?

The silence is deafened with a ring I can't fill, a tongue I can't move. I'm frozen. You describe your love so vividly for someone with another face- another moth here to ruin my nights and leave me awake cause your light shines brightest when the moon is out and the sun is gone, haven't you ever thought of these monsters with moth masks on?

What happened to you smiling at me? Whatever happened for me to turn sour at the thought of someone else, shouldn't I be happy for you? Shouldn't I smile? But I can't. I can't. I can write I can, I can text I am.

But I am not, scarcely are my grins not forced.
Could you guide my hand to the words you want to hear or does it even matter? Would my words be stronger if they were not mine at all?

Would I be better with the face of a moth, a face of a liar, a feeder?
Maybe I already am. Perhaps I am addicted.
Perhaps I have been the first moth, you are mine and what is mine I wish to protect. But your rays are for all to gawk and I am not to shadow. So I will stay cramped up in this dark corner, fearing the sun and awaiting the moon, fearing the moths.

As long as I have you.

| The cat perched on the fence sways its tail over the wood railing, with its fur coal it would have faded into the night, without you that is. Their wide eyes reflect a vivid green I had not seen.

They are glued to me.
A challenger who can batt me in a single swing, all of us.

A predator with a weaponry of claws and a line of teeth, whiskers twitching- they are far more patient than me. The moon is sulking behind a line of trees, a fence of sorts. It lights up the leaves with an enchanting glow and the cat seems to wink, fleeing from the fence it chases after the moon as the sunset hues gloss over the porch.

The ticking of a clock drones in my ears as the other moths disappear and I am left to whisper lulls into your ears. |

|2|

657 Words

Unedited, I apologize.