Have you ever wondered what the rest of the universe looks like? All of the galaxies, stars and planets. Do you think life really exists out there? If so are they thinking of us? These are some of my thoughts that drift through my head as I lay beneath the stars. They shine as though they are all competing for my individual attention. One stands out, piercing brighter than all the rest. I stare at it for a while contemplating if it is a sign or not before my train of thought shifts to be preoccupied by something else, or more someone else. He always manages to cross back into my mind, consuming my thoughts until I feel both numb and ecstatic at the same time. How can someone manage to control every sense in my body and destroy them simultaneously. I am like a doll which he was always determined to string along until the next time he got bored or another much prettier model came along. So I would get thrown to the side and forgotten until he got bored of the most recent one and returned to me. He always returned to me. After a few years I began to realise that he had a type. Slim girls with piercing blue eyes and the sickly bleach blonde hair which fell just past their shoulders. They all came and left again yet I was different. I never understood why he kept me. I contrasted dramatically from the usual girls he would swap me out for with my rich chocolate hair which fell to the middle of my back and dull and lifeless emerald eyes. From all the pain I have endured over the past 5 years it’s a wonder I’m still sane… Well i’m currently still questioning if I really am or not. Any sane person would have left the minute they were first discarded like junk but not me. I was always there waiting with open arms for when he returned.
I snap out of my train of thought to the driveway becoming illuminated as he pulled in. He slammed on the brakes and threw the car door open, slamming it closed behind him before walking straight past me to the house. How can he be so cold? How can he walk straight past me without even a simple hello or even a glance. I can say i’m surprised now though. It’s the same routine every night. It always ends the same. He will act angry now and then at around 3 am he will crawl back into my bed, snuggle up to me with his head on my chest or wrapping his arms around me and like the fool I am, I will return to feeling complete because in that moment he loves me again. That is all I have ever wanted and if he has to be feeling lonely or drunk to feel anything for me then so be it. I would rather that over nothing at all.
Morning begins to draw nearer as I slowly drift off to sleep. I was up all night tossing and turning, contemplating what I actually meant to him.
Not a poem but some late night thoughts