Can I have four hours of your life?
Why do you do what you do to me?
Silence makes strange shapes in the darkness, tells great lies, fuels the fantasies of a disillusioned mind. Silence makes strange sounds as the universe bursts out of leaking pipes. Silence feels cold and damp on your skin as it suspends in the air as I tell you I love you.
I hate you. I hate that you don’t exist. I hate that you’re not real. I hate that despite all that I still love you. And I hate that I’m telling you any of this.
You like how I love you without expectation or explanation. Like. When did my heart go missing? You’re sorry that you hurt me. You’re sorry that your God chose you as a vessel to cause me pain. You say you hurt because I hurt.
Will you be a vessel in this, a victim? Your God did not ordain you to this. It is not your existence that hurts, it’s you. You are your actions. You are the pain you cause me. You who is the grand subject of this Divine mess. Your biography that was written before you existed. Will you be the object then? Will you be the victim? This is not you. This is not who I fell for.
You say I am a part of you. You tell me tales from the years we met. You tell me about the girls that broke your heart. You don’t tell me what you want.
Sometimes, I want to ignore you. Sometimes I want to forget you, erase you, destroy you. Sometimes I want to hold you and pray for you. Sometimes I just want you.
You who say you will not come back but always do. So who is it that does the waiting? Why leave me hanging? We sit and consume time like it belongs to us. It doesn’t.
We were so lost. I found a friend. I found you. I fell in love. I found myself. I fell. I broke. I knew I had a heart because I saw it broke.
You cry over
Are these things I thought of when I was drunk?
Are you enjoying this? No. I am not meant to enjoy. I can’t enjoy. I don’t enjoy. Who were you before you locked your heart away?
Words. That is all you are to me. Words. No sight, so smell, no sound. No touch of your skin against mine. That is all you want to be. You, the tribal lord, who will date modern girls and marry your wretched cousin. You who break my heart.
Clerics who swear on holy ground. Get away from me. I hate you. You break me. I trust you. You’re jaded. Don’t leave me.
Will we talk again?
Yes. I have sinned.
Loving you is my single greatest regret.
Or not. I erred. Your call.
I spurn other men because they are not you.
You, who are not real and do not exist.
What have you done to me?