fake

A flash of emotions felt by a stained person.

The rain.

I loved the rain; it reminded me of you. Your desire to spread cold warmth, your desire to be everywhere. The rain would seep into the soil, where the stems would grasp its nutrients; you would infiltrate my burnt heart, and watch me feed off your pureness.

I was not pure.

I was a desperate attempt; I was the devil reincarnate who begged for God's mercy - yet was denied, due to my irreversible sins. You, on the other hand, were a blank sheet;  a blank sheet left unblemished. Though you were left unblemished, you could easily be marred. I dyed you the colours which resided in me: from a dirtied grey to a rich red. Fortunately you didn't mind because you could easily be washed. I, on the other hand, could not get rid of this stubborn stain. The stain which travelled from my heart to yours, the stain which died by your hands yet lived to see another day with mine. 

I hated that stain.

So when does it end? Will there be an end? I witnessed your soft smile - which never fell. You felt my unloving smile thwart you, and my frowns perish you. How could you smile? Did it hurt to have the corners of your lips so forcibly upturned? Did it hurt to feel my reluctant happiness cut, jab and scar you? I won't apologise. You asked for this; you stayed by me. No matter what I did, you would be inflicted upon. I chose to ignore it, yet the burden worsened. To this day, the burden sits upon my crumbling shoulders proudly. Its toxicity eats me away; I can't escape. 

You, however, can.

You, however, choose not to. 

Your spirit wonders and yearns for peace yet your selfish, thoughtful desires tortures it - just to be with me. Why must your infatuation lie with a fake? A fake who leeches off reassurance and validation. I watched as you sacrifice everything for me. You looked at me like a God, and I scorned you like a demon. 

My fakeness cannot dissipate, like your feelings which are anchored onto my soul. It hurts.