THE MOMENT: Mine.
You’d pushed me off the precipice, but grabbed my hand just as I was falling away from you, struggling against your self-imposed weakness that kept you from pulling me to safety... yet you wouldn't let me fall away. I saw you above me. I saw the distance below, but not where it led. I’d averted my eyes to every crevice, every haze…I’d studied all that surrounded me. But I could not choose where my release was, until you released me. You were keeping me there for yourself. Yet you never did give your full self to me. You loved me. I know. We were a fire. The kind you can’t hide. We blackened skies. We emblazoned our surrounding air. I know you felt it. There was a glow. I was melted into you. Can you feel me in there? I am hot within you. For a while, don’t try to escape. I am words. I am pictures. I am letters and songs and I am love, the one and only kind. I was yours. I am memories I am slow pulses of your veins I am insomnia I am running footsteps in the night. I am the glowing light of your laptop playlist. I am the numbers on the clock by your bedside. I am the ghost in your sheets. I am the guitar chords whispering into your neck. I am the shaking of your skin. I am the chills in your toes. I am a standing ovation, I am a slow breeze. I am a screammmmmmmm. I am the sunset of your every day. I am yours, but never again entirely, only in whispers, in stale overdue attempts, in old age reverie, in summers later, in slow exhales of reliving. By the time you’re reading this, I will have released myself. And fallen. Strong enough to be ripped by the winds of torrential unsurety. I will be lashed by many more beginnings. But you will be an ending, my ending. Up there watching me recede into the blackness. And then, you’ll lose my sight, you’ll lose our sound, you’ll lose the scent, the feel, … you’ll lose me.
But I will be free.
In the first few hours of Friday, July 13th, I told him he was a never.