It is both terrifying and apt that your poetry has come back
to haunt me. As my anger and rage and pain and ultimatum
subsides, my rationale feeds itself into the flame burning
within my bones, compelling me into action and upward
As hues connect with the heat of the moment, my mind
breathes a fiery blue, and I find myself being trapped in
lines, stanzas, and rhymes, when all hell in my head would
scream at me to persist in analyzing the words of the many
supreme. Like a starved sinner, I devour your words--words I
once remembered and forgot--letting them digest within me,
until I find those memories I have burned away beneath the
worried gaze of the mango trees, and the joyful apathy of
fireworks in the sky. I find a part of me preserved in your
amber, and maybe--with enough anger and pain--I can breathe
life into that horcrux, and drag it by the hair to the
present, where it has no business being in.
I spit in its eye and wail on it with my fists, striking the
forsaken homonculus with love and anger--passion devoid from
the apathy I carry within my void. I ask it why, interrogate
its dead eyes, and run my fingers through its hair. It says
nothing, but shows me everything I need.
I have learned from the relics of what was once, and I
scream into the distant nebulae with unbridled passion and
fear. Our exquisite corpses show the timeline of a dying
star--now a black hole where memories come to disappear.
And now, I cannot escape the gravity well, and I am sucked
into the event horizon. I am cursed with empathy and apathy,
holding hands and smiling as I am elongated into a figure
only seen deep within the faults of the eldritch earth.
Perhaps our corpses will talk again. Perhaps it shall be
silent murmurs that leak poison from the corners of the
mouth. Perhaps it will be an understanding silence. Perhaps
it will be nothing at all.
For now, I walk in this new dimension, and gaze upon time
turnnoffyourmind
dailybridgerton
baratheonpilled
jacobvanloon
snowghoul
areudirty