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naxiai Sep 2016
I just want to hear you calling my name.
And for me to say, yes? What do you need?

I want to sit behind you
and kiss all the freckles you have across your shoulders.
To rest my hands across your stomach and feel it trembling -
feel its warmth and softness as you consume my love.

I want you to close your eyes
and rest your head on my shoulder,
to make me laugh when your hair tickles my nose.

I want to hear you say, Oops. Sorry about that.

I'll just love you a little bit extra, because everything you do is lovely to me.
And even when a moan escapes your lips as my kisses relocate to your neck, no one will be sorry about that.

I'll just hold your belly when it quivers. I'll just listen to your voice shake when you whisper, Please. More.

I'll give you whatever you want because I'm starving for it, too.
naxiai Sep 2016
There's a large whirlpool in my dreams -
I sit at the top of a cliff and watch everything in the water
go around and around until it disappears.

What's in the water?

Well, there's only one thing. They're memories.
Memories of us in Paris, Rome, New Mexico, our bed.
Memories of you laughing so hard until you beg me to stop talking.
Memories of him dancing and singing until we all beg him to stop embarrassing us.
Memories of me in between you two, happy, as you both talk over me when you think I'm asleep.

You are asleep. You've been sleeping for a long time.

Have I? That can't be right. All of this didn't feel like a dream.

It was. All of it. I'm sorry you had to find out this way.

The whirlpool seems to be forever -
the memories are endless and all I can do is look down, watching them go away one by one.  

No, this isn't right at all. None of this was fake. It wasn't a dream.

Yes, it was. You need to accept it and let go.

No.
Standing up, I take a look around. I take a step closer to the edge.
Right there. I can see it towards the center.

There's a memory in the water, barely visible.

It's a child standing in a desert, crying out as the people she loves most in this world leave her. The car kicks up dust and the sun beats down on her when she chases after it, finally falling to the ground in defeat.

"Mommy! Daddy! It's me!"

That's the dream. That's what I should be going after.
It's been hiding among love. In between bed sheets and music and laughter.

You're making a mistake. It's just another memory.

No, it's not just another memory. Far from it. It's the truth and I'm going to follow it. I should have followed it a long time ago.

I take another step closer to the edge. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. In and out. Within and without.

When I open my eyes, I jump into the whirlpool.
naxiai Sep 2016
For a long time, I didn't want to write because I was afraid of what would show up on my paper.
I avoided pencils, notebooks, and my therapist's advice to write down the feelings you have.

I know now that my mind was simply trying to protect me -
you see, the things I felt and the people I loved were too painful to think about.

I couldn't pick up a pencil and write in a notebook because that would have been the equivalent to picking up a handgun and loading it with bullets.

If I had followed through and pushed away my fear, I would probably be dead now. My notebook would be covered in blood.

Sometimes fear is a good thing - it keeps us alive when we need to be.
naxiai Sep 2016
Tears sting my eyes when I read the words.

They never loved you. If they did, they wouldn't have hurt you.

That's not true. Sometimes the people we love hurt us and they don't mean to, deep down.

Sometimes the people we love yell at us when they're angry and sometimes they leave in the middle of the night.

They still love me even if they don't apologize afterwards or return in the morning.

Tears sting my eyes when I remember the words.
They are the same people that said this:

We are so proud of you, Gigi. You will always be our little girl. We love you so much.

The same mouth that yelled at me when he wanted me to leave him alone. The same eyes that cried heavy tears into my shoulder when she left.

It doesn't matter if they're the same. Either way, they love(d) me.
naxiai Sep 2016
My therapist used to ask why I always smiled when I talked about you, especially when the things I talked about weren't happy at all.

I really don't know, I'd say.

She'd tilt her head and watch me carefully. I'd hold my breath because the words didn't exist yet.

It hurt too much to say them so I could only do the one thing I've always done: smile. Smile because it's okay. Smile because the world is how it should be.

When I walked out of therapy, I didn't smile for the rest of the day. My mouth didn't turn up at the corners for anything.

Only in therapy did I make the effort to show that I was remotely okay.

Now, as I lay in bed, the words become real. In this empty house, something comes into existence.

I miss you.

My mouth doesn't threaten to put on a mask. My lips know better than to try and lie anymore.

I want to be where you are. I want to be with you.

I never said these words because they didn't exist in my mind yet. My mouth, god bless her, wanted to save me from the pain of knowing.

With no one around, no one to witness the words as they come into existence, I begin to panic.

Tears fall from my eyes because I didn't anticipate the pain of seeing. The all-encompassing pain of believing that you are no longer around.
naxiai Sep 2016
The rain is still falling outside -
it's only been an hour since I woke up and I can still feel traces of you on my body.

You are the blood running between my legs.
You are the tears falling down my face.

I think it's interesting how you can be nothing and everything at once - you're not even in this world anymore and I still feel you everywhere.

Didn't I tell you to stay away from the dark astral planes?
Why didn't you listen?

I don't know where you are now.
You're lost and I don't know how to find you.
naxiai Sep 2016
It's beginning to rain outside -
I left my window open just in case you wanted to visit me when I fall asleep.

You see, souls are susceptible to flying away when they're sleeping.

It's not a bad thing, per se, but there are those times when we find ourselves in certain astral planes that have never been visited before.

There are peculiar creatures that lurk there - creatures that will look at your soul in curiosity before following it.

We should take precaution of those astral planes. Stay away from them.

Instead, come to my window when the moon has been shielded by heavy clouds.

Come into my room when the rest of the world is asleep and the only sound that can be heard is rainfall.

My soul will be awake, waiting for you.
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