You lie in bed,
blissfully ignorant,
while I tuck my knees under
my chin and sway
back and
forth.
True picture of disturbed.

My mind is racing,
except
I do not see the checkered flag reminding me that I have been here
before.
Each thought feels like it did the first time - the sting of each insult -
whiplash.
And there is no sign of a finish line.

This is the first time I have written in months.
Maybe this time it will help me change gears,
visualise that checkered flag,
see the finish line.

'You don't have to be so angry all the time.'
If your mind were doing
laps,
infinitely,
it would be exhausted,
you would be exhausted.

My lap times are slowing,
I am spending more time on the self-loathing nowadays.

In a race against myself, who will lose?
Tune in tomorrow night for the next episode of Insomnia.

Always my love is more.
Never enough.

The rain is never apologetic about falling.
Neither am I.
Loving you happened as the rain does:
first the heat,
the steam of your breath,
condensation,
clouds on my lips
and now these words pouring down.
Hard, fast, irrevocable.
Falling for you happened as the rain does:
naturally.

You sound just like him
Thinking that your words
Hold as much gravity as
His.
Thinking that they slip out of your mouth and grab at my ankles, tugging me to the ground.
But the foundation you've created is made out of quicksand and all your words would pull me down to drown.
Sorrows drown as I down my fourth glass of stupidly red cherry liqueur.
It tastes like children's cough mixture.
A panacea just like you.
But i miss him. The one who gave me the wounds that you've taken the time to suture up.
His foundation was solid. His words were real and always brought me back to him. I'll never stop loving him. You're not ready for my love and he never stopped taking it from me.

Now
everything is heavier,
every
single
word
you say
delivered like bullets from a gun, sometimes hammered across
but always
tugging on your weak heart
bringing it
up
through the tight confines of your muscular oesophagus,
spewing bits, spluttering, shooting flecks at my face.

You bleed and you gush and you push all
of these words
out
onto me so that you
can breathe
again
for just a second.

What you don't
see
is that you've hurled a
mass
at me,
your blood staining my chest
and the back of my hands as I wipe it off my cheeks.

You are so passionate
about your pain.

It is not the issues that I tally,
it is your negativity
- your darkness -
the way you lap up the dramatic twists and live in this
disgusting
suspense
because a stressful state is the natural habitat
of your battered heart.

I am fighting here.
I am fighting to not let your way become mine,
to fill my heart with a light that defies your darkness,
accepting that I cannot save you
as you would contest the safety of my flame or you would contain a candle lit
for you
only to suffocate it -
just as you do yourself.
Maybe it is all you know.
Maybe it reminds you that you are alive.

But I'm not looking for painful reminders of existence,
I want to live.

I love you.
I am terribly afraid
I have lost
you within yourself to yourself
and now only you can
save yourself.

Forgive me for finding joy in between
your hurling -
in moments of silence
in your arms.

Today I saw someone that looked like you.
She had your build,
strong shoulders but no *******.
She had your hesitant open-mouthed smile with the incisors that stick out a little too far.
The shaven sides, an edgier hairstyle that always suited you.
Even her fingers looked like yours
and she handled everything with gentle caresses, just like you did.
She walked like a man though.
You never walk like a man.
I could not stop staring.
I wanted to get to know her
but she was probably nothing like you.
No one is like you.
I wanted to hug her
but she probably would not bury her face in my neck like you did.
I wanted to kiss her
because I had never kissed you
and maybe if I did
you would have stayed.
I could not stop staring.
I miss you.

Thoughts of
You
consume me
- my entire being -
To the point where my fingers being to write feverishly and
My lips part slightly as they would in anticipation of your kiss
But now just to precede a wordy and rabid rebuttal in my defense.
My breath is shallower because my heart beats faster because my brain is electrically alive with evanescent memories of us -
Attempting a resuscitation of
You.

Words so inadequate to describe the
Pandora's box being keyed at by these thoughts of
You.
Silence that was once our long-distance embrace, now
choking the life out of my eyes
and shattering the soul out of my words.
It's as if
You
were the ground underneath me
as well as the
gravity holding me down. Now,
You
are gone and my horizon is limitless
but I have no rest, no shore to wash up upon.

You
gave me such stability, such balance,
a means to remain poised,
a sincere sense of calm,
my panacea.

I turn around to surrender to my anchor
but the rope is severed ,
leaving me to wafture on the susurrous offing until
the storm cracks me in half and
sends me
down to where
You
have been all along, on that ocean bed, motionless,
with a piece of rope still attached to
You.

Anchor arms outstretched as if to call out for
our silence to once again become our long-distance embrace.
I once was a whole hollow hull
and now I am only bits and pieces without
You -
entirely peaceless.