How are you doing in these days leading up to the ones you don’t remember, but the ones that cause me to not be able to sleep, that lay on my skin like thorns I can’t help but push in as deep as they once were. I bled for you then, I bleed for you now.
How am I supposed to hear people say your name, and not shudder? I remember once, your touch on my shoulder and me almost falling. You grabbing onto me to steady me, only making me more lightheaded. You asked me if I was alright. The question pouring from your fingertips into my shoulders, down my spine and wrapping it’s hands around my hips.
I was awake all night. I tell you. You cost me so much sleep then, and still now. I spoke hoping you’d hear me, not what I said but what I meant. Understand why I was falling underneath your touch.
I know you did.
These days. These days that my skin peels and my heart sheds every last piece of you, making it’s way into my throat, causing me to choke. The words you said that I’ve carried within me, threaten to make me sick to my stomach. They are trying to leave me. But I won’t allow it.
Not before the anniversary.
It’s been short enough now that I can still say I’m affected, but after that it’s been too long. Is it wrong to still think of you like this? How could I stop it? How could you blame me?
I hope that night, you thought of me. I hope although I wasn’t there, you pictured me dancing under the lights. I hope that you thought of each and every time I was backstage in the darkness, you standing as close to me as possible. Not enough space for everyone, the excuse. But the air so warm and you becoming my oxygen intake. Too much. Becoming dizzy, intoxicating me right before I danced.
Being on the stage, and spinning in your direction. You giving me a look and that giving me the power to leap into the air like I had wings. To hit the ground with real emotion, your eyes holding the strings to my movements. The feelings I evoked in people. Just secondhand smoke, from me breathing you in. It filling the whole auditorium.
What is this feeling? It affected everyone differently. Being in the same place as both you and I. Some it drove insane. Some it made cry. Some it made overwhelmed, Some uncomfortable, some overjoyed and blissful. Us, flooded with something other than the forces of heaven. Not portraying the arms of the savior, but the voice of a hurricane nearing the badlands.
Bring the diamonds to me. I’ll see how they just don’t look real. But as soon as I look at you, as soon as the corners of your mouth turn upward and you wield your power over me, the brilliance of the lights will become blinding. And this was how it should’ve went. Not a dull replica of how things were, not you trying to recreate a cosmic light show that you just cannot cause on your own.