Hate leaves ugly scars, love leaves beautiful ones.
Years have passed, and still, I find myself enthralled..He has haunted my dreams since the day he left. The last touch upon my skin till tingles..the last breath against my lips can still be tasted on the tip of my tongue. It is madness, and yet, willingly would I suffer the depths of such a travesty. Delicate wrists adorned in splatters of ink, held firm before me in offering. Beckoning that the clearest sign of my insanity be placed, laced, and worn with pride. (Given that it be pretty enough, beyond the lackluster amounts of ivory; of course.)
Years before I truly knew what stolen breath could feel like, he was doing so. Creating emotions deeper than the oceans, and far more dangerous in that I couldn’t comprehend the tides as they ebbed and flowed. He was a mystery to me, and like most creatures, I shied from the unknown and found the well worn path of the familiar to be more…
more what? I haven’t the answer..
I’ve sat for endless hours, reliving the moments as they were stolen within my heart. Settled there, upon the creaking boards beneath the early warmth of sunlight, sipping coffee in hopes to awaken somehow. Not physically, per say, but mentally. Emotionally. Spiritually, perhaps. Over, and over, and over still I failed. Hopelessly drowning in the softened sighs that caressed my ears..the tendrils of heated passions that bred pain and pleasure against my flesh..fingertips that bruised..palms that smoothed in languid circles, yet wound me to heights unimaginable..
Shhh…please don’t… How can I not..?
The answers still elude me to this very moment. To the very breaths and blinks that lead words to be typed out in chaotic clicks. Perhaps..perhaps it’s something never to be answered..