We’ve looked at each other on the border of two different worlds…
I watched him leave through the door of my heart disappearing in the darkness and I could see his silhouette and the color of his black clothes that foretold the mourning of the new world inside of me.
I was counting his fast steps walking away and going further into the darkness, but my mind couldn’t accept another loss.
Then, I gritted my teeth together then I screamed my lungs out.
My voice seemed to disappear and my scream was losing its intensity. He wasn’t coming back, and I couldn’t make myself heard.
In my chest, there was an emptiness taking shape , deeper and deeper that didn’t let my mind rationalize. I screamed countless times hoping that at some point my voice would be heard by him. I didn’t want to stop, but my hopes were falling apart more and more.
Pain. Loneliness. Bitterness.
Three words that crawled their way on my spine while my eyes were stuck on the man that became smaller and smaller.
I kept looking at the point where he got, where he wanted to be, hoping he’d go away. Now, he’s a part of me and I can’t make it go away no matter how much I wish to.
I keep rubbing my eyes hard, begging that when I open them I won’t see him anymore.
Yet, he’s still there and I am exactly where he left me. Two different worlds with two different wishes. Two different worlds, and now, I can finally see yours again.
The game is over, your company left you and the cigarettes that smoked all of your attention are now gone. The light peeked through the window to let you know that indeed, there’s a new horrible day ahead of you. Then, you pull the curtains to drive it away and lay in your bed that smells like us.
You lay your head on the lonely pillow, and you squeeze the other one tightly to your chest. You’re sad and ashamed. Or maybe it’s just an illusion, but deep within you, you know it’s all fake.
You clench your fists, close your eyes.
But they’re shaking, forcing you to stay awake, to face your actions to stop avoiding, hiding behind others.
You sit on the edge of the bed, putting your cigarette between your lips and then you ask yourself if it’s really worth torturing yourself over this.
You decide you are too tired so you sit on the same cold bed that gets colder by the day.
And you’re thinking about how tomorrow you’ll figure it all out.
But tomorrow is today and you are the same, the same cigarette brand. You let the ice destroy all your paradoxes and the same ice looks up to you how you are walking on it’s cracks.
You don’t evolve, neither regress, and you are the same sick man, the same man that I’ve fell for, but now you reveal the most horrible side of his.