D

spewing.

My hands glide through your soft silky blonde hair as I gently wrap my arms closed around your leather jacket and your eyes; those big eyes glare straight at me as if to say “I know your scars and wounds and I’ll love you evermore for it” however when you stare into mine, I worry if all you see is the panic and terror of loneliness from previous battles with relationships. The door loomed over the tension that danced around the room as if a ballet dancer pirouetting upon a ballad of icicle nails ready to infect any open crevice. But upon all the darkness and confusion the tightly fastened hairband that strangled her wrist shone through all and illuminated this face that could have been pared to a siren, the beauty winded me as my lips slowly moved in towards her neck. But this time as my head moved slowly closer to yours, the reality became further and further away; distance became blatant and no matter how hard I pushed she became a mile further away, do I rest and wait for her to come back? Or do I persevere this figure of a dancing mirage? I hear your whispers tease my ears enticing me in all the while another mans ears were to be hearing this and feeling the love; was this even a man, a woman or just paranoia? My grip upon your jacket seems to be slipping as the sweat from my palms lubricates the fake leather material, one last ditch effort? I throw my whole self into her, a final gambit. Grasping for anything I could before being stranded for eternity in self-pity, barely scraping the denim fibers of your ripped jeans. I feel as if I’m falling, for you? Definitely. For a trap into the returning depression and anxiety of rejection, most certainly. And there we are my arm curled around your shoulder at the bottom of the driver way, do I go to kiss you and tell you how I feel? My eyes meet yours again for the second time but this time I don’t want to risk any type of rejection. This is why my heart broke when I watched you get in the car not knowing that you would not speak to me again; finally, we end up here where I cannot face looking at my phone screen knowing the mental effects it would have not seeing a message from you. Not knowing how you are. Not letting you know how I really felt.