The Science of Having
M // 04232015 This was where we started when you looked at me the way Coincidence looked at Disbelief to prove it wrong. You looked at me like an anomaly, as if the Fibonacci Sequence lied to you after all these years. Symmetry bores you and I guess that's why you found me appealing, I was desperately against anything that would prove that I am easily understood. I refuse to be defined, found solace in lonely, home in pitch black darkness, found a friend in the quiet, felt trapped in embraces, found purpose in just being. But flourished in sunlight, made allies in raindrops, longed for the heat of lips on mine, of touch, found truth in wonders, in deceit. It is basic knowledge to never mix something as harmless as water to an acid but you chose to dump gallons on everything I chose not to burn the world with. And you reveled in the flames, stayed in the middle of the explosion, marveled in all the shrapnel I painted the wind with, inhaled the fumes as if your insides longed for such a tragic mess. As if it waited. Planted life within the collapse, watered it with cheap alcohol. It is basic knowledge to never mix spirits and medication, but you aren't fond of precautions. Laughed at warning labels. Didn't believe in expirations. Your guts barely flinched when my poison reached your atmosphere. You aren't made of steel, love, yet you chose to let my acids melt your everything down. The strength of an acid is determined by its ability to lose protons. Strength is determined by our ability to lose. To love, Chance deems them synonymous more often than not. You told me I was more than beautiful. Called me complex. Called my smiles defying gravity that not even Newton could have fathomed it. Studied astronomy in my eyes, counted constellations that weren't really there. You didn't fool me, love. You couldn't, many have tried to name the stars I chose to ignore yet you were the most persistent. You wanted to get under my skin because of the galaxies hidden beneath, you wanted the divine to be at your beckon. At your call, at your mercy. But the Celestial? They do not bow to mortals, it is a lesson we both learned. The same way we learned that the brightest stars are often the next to die, but even then you'd just love the blaze. The fire. The blinding. Call the burn behind our eyelids comfortable. Call the Supernova more than beautiful. Call it complex. And this was where we grew at when your fingertips learned how to make my skin sing gospels. Learned how many orchestras lived between my eyelashes. How many harmonies are made in every breath I expelled. Learned how my tongue would reap tenfold of what it sowed, it is a master in spreading itself thin without worrying about surviving the breakage. For when you learned that your smile can single-handedly detonate everything inside my rib cage. At when you memorized my hollows, the curves, the bends, the arches and fill them with your intent. I was never good at feeling complete, told you that it wasn't sustainable. But you have this medical condition that just loved proving people wrong. It is basic knowledge that diamonds are carbon that went under extreme pressure, so you did just that. Called it caring. Made it seem like you weren't harvesting all those Precious for yourself. But I know better now, I was a mystery and you happened to love unraveling. It was a testament on curiosity, you say. A challenge. A good study. Made your veins run on pure adrenaline, there were no track marks, love, but the high was evident. And this is where we end at when you started looking at me like you're holding the final piece on this gargantuan puzzle, you swore I made a pretty picture. I told you I didn't want to be called pretty. Told you I couldn't end there. Told you I was more than that. Told you I couldn't be the hypothesis on your problem with losing. You didn't have problems with us variables, the problem is that you are the constant. Stayed only long enough to break the substance, but never how to fix it. How to stabilize. The strongest acid known to man is a mixture of two, hold on to this. That is a lesson in itself and you best learn it. It is basic knowledge that diamonds are carbon that went under extreme pressure, so you did just that. Didn't take into account for when my hands became strong enough or that yours were made of glass. Some of the best inventions are accidental. You didn't take the Theory of Evolution into account either, Darwin would have been so pissed at your short-sightedness, you spent so much time figuring me out but didn't notice how I was adapting? Focused so much on the missing link and dismissed the other findings. I'm not an experiment, love. But you still chose to dissect my smiles, still chose to heat my lonely, submerged my laughter in formalin, tried labeling my tears. But anything submerged in formalin is dead, love. Or at least dying. I learned that we preserve only two things: what we had or what we're afraid to lose. I wonder if I ever was the latter. I refuse to be cataloged like the others before me you tried to understand. You didn't have to understand me to have me, but you chose to have me to understand. But I'm not an experiment, love. I never was. I never was.
