Listening to a song you heard a million times before,
in a past not distant from your present,
but finding a spiritual connection with the lyrics,
the instruments, the singer's voice--
you find newfound meaning.

Then you realise, it is not the song,
which has changed,
but you.

With withheld words as the only measurable distance between us, our knees touched, igniting a spark both of us feigned oblivion to. Inhale. Exhale. Passive-aggressively, you demanded my honest opinion, yet your eyes recoiled --the potential of rejection would split your perception into disjointed scraps. Eyes shining and lips sealed shut, I watched you wither under my gaze until you shook. You were a lamb; predictable, but endearing. And so clearly in love with me.

Unconditional --through my passionate debates, flared conscience and difficult persona, your hand never fared far from mine. When my eyes met yours; and our story was no longer of unrequited love. Two scared lovers scared of what this intense emotion implied. Afraid to take the next step, as if the distance extended from the moon to the stars. Inhale. Exhale.

But my eyes met yours. My mouth parted, forming words naturally clouding my mind in the darkest of nights, and the brightest of days. You feigned oblivion; you claimed these emotions are foreign, especially concerning me. The world darkened, and suddenly, I was no longer part of this unfamiliar environment.

Inhale.

Those words of thinly-veiled rejection underneath mass pity... suddenly, I'm the one shaking, similar to a single flower rebounding against raging storms. More than anything, I am blinded. You were the one constant in a life of variables, but unbeknownst to me, an irrational number with digits I never considered.

Inhale.

I questioned life.
I questioned my worth.
I questioned you.

Inhale.

The truth appeared peacefully. These doubts gnawing my mind were my own self-doubts. Amidst desperately inquiring those in yours, I forgot my own. A helpless ladybug, I lost myself in long blades of grass, sharp as the knives in a butcher's drawer.

Eyes closed, I remembered you. Simply.

Your words are thinly laced with regret, insecurity, and greatest of all, unbridled passion; your arms around my shoulders, those spontaneous compliments and the crooked smile, your soft eyes sparking at my presence... it screams denial.

Denial.
Denial.
Denial.

This isn't my denial. This is yours.

Exhale.

Paint the night sky with twinkling stars, distant from one another but collectively emitting a spectacular glow;
Paint the spun ivory clouds across the interminable blue, watching the softness suffocate sunlight streaming below;
Paint your frayed chocolate braids beside curved, smiling full lips in the middle of a vivid, adorned cottage;
Paint the passionate red of blood that stains our hands as they clasp together like imperfect puzzle pieces, and the jagged breathing that fogs the dusk;
Paint yourself where you are loved--
Paint yourself with me.

light-hearted denials
that stab every situation
I perceived, tasted, heard,
with my alert senses
that lead to who I am today--
and your dismissals of
such a degree that
invalidate my feelings.

"My children were mascaraed with blood spurting in a disarray,
a nightmare flashing freshly with every passing night,
and the man's blazing eyes ignited with inevitable
pure evil --if there exists such a thing,
and my faith in humanity subsides,
my heart snatched out of my aching body,
for I am an unsuspecting, wounded mother."

But involuntarily,
for a fraction of a second,
her lips quiver in glee.

"It was beautiful;
their screams of agony,
my control over their lives,
and sweet fear
reflected in their eyes--
my eyes."

I judge people
for being judgemental.

Oh, the sweet irony.

my undivided attention,
the way my intense gaze falls
on the outline of your lips,
as you continue speaking
but the words contain no meaning;
just the sound of our heartbeats
eradicating in unison.

countless restless nights
tossed under blankets with immense heat
or infinite coldness
the sight of your turned back
freezing every toe faster than winter
an awkward snow angel
I am numb

but for those small moments
as flashes in your overcrowded life
did you like it?  

I gave you ownership
of the very essence of my being
and you didn't notice.