you and i. or maybe it has always been only i. there was never a you that you had any knowledge of. a funny pair come to think of it, a pair of myself and the you that only exists in the universe i've woven for you inside of my ribcage.
an irrevocable mess hidden within the depths i've grown to love watching you from, the layers you'll never come to know about, the cracked galaxy that mends with the mention of your name. this huge mess -my love- you will forever remain unaware if it. unaware of how everything about you is always out of my control, be it your shaggy hair, or the ordinary eyes that out of nowhere became a weakness enough to tremble my knees. unaware of the weight of a heart you're carrying around to places i've never set my eyes on.
hate. we've been taught that hate is opposite of love. is it? if i hated you would i still feel your presence, your smell, your nothings that set fire to my soul? yes i would.
what cure is hate when in a crowded room my senses pull me to you? what cure is hate when my breath still falters when i feel you walk in? what cure is hate when it barely differs from love? what cure is hate when i have loved you for an eternity and hated you for a split lifetime?
they call it a name in books, this feeling that imperialists my soul, this feeling that holds my lungs captive when i feel your ordinary eyes on me, this feeling that devoids me of myself, is called one single, inexpressive word, it's called unrequited love. one where you'll go to your grave never knowing of a universe that once held your name.
YOU ARE READING
The Chaos Of A Human.Being
RandomA couple of words thrown around in the form of thoughts.
