I pushed him out of my doorway with a smile that covered the feelings of guilt and disappointment. He kept pulling me towards him so that he could steal more kisses with a piercing stare almost as if to reveal my inner thoughts, plummeting them to the surface of the conversation filled air between us. I stare at the floor not at all paying attention to it, but instead avoiding all that surround me. Not only am I cheating myself, but also exercising the cheater abilities within him.
This all creates confusion, adds to the fire of incomprehensible disaster. I pull away, I think of the other. “The juice that’s worth the squeeze”. Is it really? What is and what is not? I beg to know. Is it real? Is it temporary? What is this? I hate not knowing. My heart was flustered and weightless, but now confusion clouds my judgment and I sit in my own manifestation of thoughts. Am I jumping the gun? Was it all fake? I think I’m thinking too much and instead I will try to silence my mind with sleep.
If we are not, but are so some, the other one a dud that fills gaps in weather changes forbidding a monogamous trend that I so want to bend, oh why, oh why must I not know what I would cherish so, in my heart, in my mind, for all eternity, to the end of time.
The thought is neither him nor her, but instead it is a process in which we reap what we sow.
No comments:
Post a Comment