Blank

I can't write.

Morning Call

I hear it.
It's getting louder and louder.
It's time to wake up...
... And I'm awake.

The first thing that comes up to me is the smile on your face. You... The image of you standing in front of me as if I'm holding a camera ready to shoot. And every single part of me is controlled by your beautiful presence. I'm your slave, I'm yours. Yes, this is how you make me feel right in the morning when I wake up.

I'm thinking what should I do next. Shower? Breakfast? Work? Or stay in bed? Either way, I'll still be doing all these by myself. I can only imagine you next to me while I'm having a hot shower. Asking you to hand me the towel and being teased by your playful side. Having coffee and toast, getting all messy and kissed by your soft lips around mine. Off to work, in the car, reminiscing the hours we spent together while the light is green and other cars behind are cursing me. Staying in bed when the only thing I can hug is my pillow, which doesn't resemble you at all. It doesn't smell of you. It's a dead object. And it's ridiculously cold to my taste.

I'm having questions in my head. I wonder a lot of whys and hows and whens and what ifs. This is getting serious. It's evolving into a vicious cycle when one question leads to another and so on.

You're so far away now, and the fact that I can't hold you tight to me, close enough to feel your heartbeat, wears me out. I can't help it. I just don't feel right. I really dislike this feeling inside me, ready to burst. But before it does, it's killing me, slicing and squeezing my heart. It hurts so much that I just want to let myself fall, lay down in the middle of the road and cry. Cry really loud till you can hear me and come back to my side.

I can't help it. This is just too painful for me to handle. It's almost unbearable. Come back. Come back. Come back to me...

My Only Cure

It's not about how long
we've been together,
nor is it how
we've bumped to
each other's life,
ending up where we are
right now.
It's how each breath
I take
reminds me
of your smell,

even though

I can't really

distinguish if it's mine

or yours anymore,

that sweet scent
invading each corridor,
corner you pass by.
It's how
you hold my hands
with such a strength,
and the way
our fingers fit
right into each other's,
making me
never willing
to let them go.
It's when
I touch your face
looking through your eyes,
feeling your jaw line
and irresistibly
having to caress it
with my lips.
Yes,
it's how
you manage
to keep me safe
happy
loved
and grateful
throughout
these 120 days or so.
Nothing seems to be
the same anymore.
I can hardly picture
myself alone
without your presence.
I think,
I really think
I'm diseased.
And the only cure
for me
is you.
So please,
don't run
don't go
don't vanish
out of a sudden,
just be mine,
be mine forever.

Fireworks

We had an argument and you said you were too tired. I can't remember why and what we were arguing on about. Whatever it was, tiny or serious, you walked out from my car. I immediately ran after you and grabbed your hand, wondering if it had to be the way it was. You didn't look into my eyes. You just refused to open yourself and let me read your thoughts and whatever it was concerning you. And I was desperate to do so, begging you to tell me anything that came to your mind. We stood there when my eyes were searching for yours, people were passing by, cars were horning and traffic lights were switching from red to green. You said you needed some time to figure out something and begged me to let you go. I couldn't. I insisted to talk and to solve it together, but you made it very clear to let you off for some time. And so, against my will, I had to let you go. A huge noise scared me, fireworks had started. Lots of people were contemplating them with big smiles. I was there among a big wave of people looking at your back while mine was facing the fireworks. Were they beautiful? I didn't know. To me they were just a set of sparkling colorful things playing in the dark. We were supposed to watch it together. And they were supposed to be beautiful.

Don't Deny It

Humans are weird, some say. Why? Because we spend our entire lives trying to make things easier in such complicated ways. We tend to tell ourselves we love simplicity and we long for that in every single thing we do. But we fail most of the time because we can't ditch the manipulative and calculative traits in us. We are greedy. We are little desperate insatiable beings. We are born to be complicated. We are born to think we are the elite creatures of the entire universe. We are born to be too proud of ourselves. And we are born to forget what we aren't really good at. That's sad.

Disconnected?

To be honest with you, I've no idea what we are doing. Not that I'm not trying hard enough. I just don't get it. I don't understand why do we have to make each other so miserable to prove there is still some sort of connection between us. I look into your eyes and I see myself. And I'm so tired of it. Move on, get over me, leave me alone. I don't want you because I never wanted you at the first place. Don't come and offer yourself to me, I despite that. Wake up and go to someone else, let him touch you and absorb all your beauty and imperfection.

And yes, after all said and done you went back to him. And now I realize that every time I see your face... I know... that there's a part of me that can't bear to let you go.

The Couple (III)

He is crafty, manipulative and an exaggerator. He gets what he wants and doesn't allow those things to slip through his fingers. In a very discreet way he drives me to think that he's such an insecure man, who is just too madly in love with me. He makes me aware of how much he cares about me and this relationship, exposing his weaknesses making me unable to blame him for anything. How can I? He's such a truthful and sensitive man... Don't women love that? We do. And that's the problem. He plays it well, I've to say. Good enough to make me turn a blind eye to his intentions. I do it not because he's really good at it. But because I'm willing to be cheated on. Yes, we play it well.

Life should be easy, why on earth should we complicate it? We've been together for 3 years now. Nothing much have changed. I've to admit I've got used to it, to him. And so has he. We don't really talk anymore. All we do is action. A word or a few is enough to constrain us back into the game. Enough to show our intentions. Enough to take and not much to give.

We are just two miserable cinders. That's life. That's a boring life of a couple who are too grown up for too little love pretending to play it well.