Saturday, April 21, 2012

Wicked game





A scribbled note that said my name. 
I loved it when you said my name. 
The way you said my name. 
A heart next to it. 
Next to numbers. 
Numbers that added up to nothing; 
numbers that confused me. 
19, 20, 21. 

Maybe it was fate. 

You, 
coming here, 
talking to me out of the blue. 


Forbidden words that flew out of your mouth. I caught them all and put them into a small cage. Words you never say to others. Words that show stuff maybe I wasn’t ready to know. I remember everything. Every single touch, every suggestion, everything we did together. The part where the parallel lines met; where I was in your future plans. Where I wished I was solid. Where am I in your plans?

I never called you my friend. Maybe because I didn’t want us to be friends. Because maybe, just maybe there was something more to it. Maybe it was just a fling; or an idea; or me wanting something different. Maybe you were what were going to save me. It was just that this time, it was more than just the outside. 


January passed, February passed. Now I’m left with that cage. I don’t want the cage anymore. It’s over. I thought I could start calling you my friend. I think you left though.

And your eyes were the size of the moon once.

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