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aa Sep 11
I wish I hated you; I wished upon a star to take away the love I've held onto
In its truest form, it's the hurt embedded in my body, mind and soul
that lurches out in the cold nights when I'm alone,
and all I can think about is you, you, you, god.
I wish I hated you because hating you would be easier than mourning something that could never be, never was and never become.
I wish I hated you. I wish our stars were aligned and the time was right. I wish I had just a bit of you if not all.
I wish I hated you. Because the rest of my friends do, they remark that you're no good and that I'm a fool for loving you.
But if I had known it was foolish to love, I wouldn't have fallen as hard as I did. I would've dusted myself off, titled my head on the right axis, and left you alone.

I wish I hated you, I repeat and reorganise the thoughts in my head.
You're no good for me. You know this, and I know this. It's why you left, and I yearn for closure that will never happen.
I wish you loved me as much as I love you, even after the serrated edge of the knife has been punctured my heart and I choked on my blood in front of you.
I wish I didn't have feelings for you; seeing you spike my heart rate. Frankly, I'm too young to die to supraventricular tachycardia, your face etched into my cornea.
You become all I focus on, all I want and hyper-fixate upon.
I wish I didn't want you as badly as I did. I wish I hated you because if I did.
I wouldn't be so eager to love another, to give my heart to someone else, hoping to take mine out of your grasp.
I wish I could forget you and the memories allocated to your face.

God, I wish I hated you as much as I love you.
aa Jun 22
One must have a mind of the sea to regard the waves and sandy shores of the salted winds encrusted with shells and past souls.

And have been one with the ocean to behold the sea glass's aquamarine lustre. The encompassing hues of blue highlight the luminescent bacterium.

Swimming in the deep torrents lie miserable souls who jumped overboard, mesmerised by the blues.

Of the July sun, and not to think of any misery sung by the sirens, I was told through the wistful wind in the sound of the shells and conches.

Which is the sound of the waves full of the same wind. That blows through the murky water.

For the listener, dweller, and lover who resides by the shore

And nothing of themselves beholds that of the sea, nothing that is not there, and nothing that is.
Used a prompt and  based off of Wallace Steven prompt
aa Jun 22
Octopus
I will always love you the way I did before
Before your love became a constraint against time and my freedom was traded for immortality
Before I became lobotomized, my decisions were no longer made.

Before you threw me over yonder with no answer to my only question

Why?

Why did your love send me into disarray and suffocate me in corrosive liquid? My pained grunts were ignored as you smothered me with kisses.

When did hugs become tests for how much my body can handle?

Hugging me tighter despite my bones cracking under pressure, I took your sweet love and swallowed it whole, hoping that it meant you couldn’t let go. You never did; you took me as a captive and slung me into the field of love.

Love was so intense that it pierced my skin. My blood bled into the ocean of pain and agony.

I no longer feel shame because when I am with you, my only waking thought is

Is it the end?

You are my ringed octopus, and I am your captive clownfish, the cheese in your trap, the fly in your Venus flytrap and the nectar in your rose.

You wanted me, you loved me, you adored me, you used me, you suffocated me.

You killed me

To die loving you was a feat that grew honourable.
To die being loved by you was a feat that grew impossible.
To die with love. It was a feat I didn’t know.
aa Jun 22
loving you was like surfing in a wave,
Its smooth movements guided me through the ocean
and the salt kissed my skin,
I became one with the water and with the wind,
the ocean became my home, and I loved it so dearly,
the sun beat me on my skin, and I was in my own little utopia,
but the sun became blistering, my skin bubbled in agony, and I cried at the injury,
the salt danced its way into the wounds and guided its painful path across my body until it reached my throat, suppressing my chokes and coaxed my voice into the abyss,
the water became violent. It no longer ran along me in light streams but rather,
it strangled me and repressed my screams,
loving you was like surfing, unexpectedly disturbing. You were so amazing and wonderful. You could be the light of my life and the one to knock my lights out,
it was either the sun was blazing, or the sun never came,
the ocean was either barren or it was dragging itself in harsh motions
the salt was either refreshing or so heavy my lungs teemed with sea salt, and I no longer had the capacity to cry; I couldn’t.
loving you...loving you was like surfing, but next time I see the ocean, I’ll take a boat instead.

— The End —