Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Writing

The Same

You and I feel like a fleeting dream.
Sweet symmetry,
our riotous, rapturous nature,
I adore and abhor this love affair,
but I won’t give it up.
I can’t give it up,
I worked too hard,
learning to allow myself allowances,
training my brain to be open to enchantment.
I have spent many months before mirrors,
asking myself if I can accept the fleeting dreams that fill my head,
and today,
I’ve decided that they will last forever.

I walk past the path full of pain that poured from my desires,
stepping, with great care across the cracks caused by the great horror of my regret.
There is no pain now.
There are no tears when I touch starlit, strawberry, joyful sighs.
I don’t fight it anymore,
no longer clasping to control all of the things I fear.

I walk through forsaken forests,
hand in hand with the hidden monster I made of myself,
and in the darkness,
I deem her beautiful, at last,
great and elegant,
born to balance with an equal,
the wave that never returns to the shore,
summer days that seem to last forever, melding into another.

You are the one I got lost in the forest for,
my knees, cut and bruised,
nails, broken and eyes, bloodshot,
but I’d do it all again.
I would find that girl in the forest,
hold her hand and guide her to the promise of morning’s light,
and I would tell her,
as I cleaned her cuts and bruises,
the sun slowly crawling into the sky,
I would tell her that the sun smiles, with so much affection at her own reflection as she sits atop rivers.

I decided to find a way to fashion our fleeting dreams into something more final.
I’d find myself, biro, bitten between bee stung lips,
brown eyes, barely focused on the page as you played with the cord of your silk bath robe,
coy smile, coaxing me from the desk I’d been chained to all day.

This was the desire I’d denied myself,
and every day, you’d find new ways to break my resolve,
relentless in the pursuit of passion,
red nails,
ripping the nylon of my tights,
riotous and rapturous.
I let you.
I wanted you so,
so fixated on same summer days,
rebellious waves that never sensed a need to swirl among the sand,
and you were all that I needed,
now that I’d allowed myself to have you.

There was nothing to be afraid of,
and no need for it to ever end.

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