irridescentphantom

Dearest—

Stones seep from the small veins of my heart. Weeds grow from the nose you had once kissed. What I am trying to say is this: you have left a magnificent imprint upon my soul, that it is heavy as iron, so cold and hard, that its edges are sharp, sticking into my fragile flesh, leaving bruises on my skin. Do you remember that night, where we professed our fearful love for one another? That was the first time I had ever been told “I love you” by someone who was not of the same blood. Yes, my blood was mellow, my mind was at ease, I felt righteously as part of another’s heart beat — the missing key to your melody — yet, it is clear, your denial of what we once shared has killed that song. A friend is all you seek: but how can you expect a friendship when what will be given is a veiled force of love filled with a kiss and a powerful memory, hidden in a simple . No, I refuse to do that to you, or most importantly, myself. I. Will. Not. Deny. My. Feelings. For that, I will not let my fingers come close to you. I will not let my feet take me to you. I will not, I repeat, I will not let my body ever come close to yours again. That, my dear, is what you call a separation. Yet, what I won’t do is divide our memories with my heart. Fuck off I will never do that. For it was that strong connection of our spirits waltzing under His Easter sun that we transcended the shadows. I was a fool to think we evaded the darkness, when the whole time, we were in the dark. That being said, these tears flow from a lake full of love in its purest form; a lake in which I drowned in. I was sad. I still am sad. I will forever be sad. You were my first love; you were my only love (at one point in time). Don’t forget that. I know your soul better than anyone else. And you know mine. Don’t throw away that power, because one day, you will question yourself, why? And when you realise that what we shared on the 19th autumn will crack open the river banks that flow from that lake of pure love, and you will kneel in ash and dust, whilst waters rise above you, and embrace what you are: my lover.

Love—