RUN BEFORE YOU HAVE TIME-
Tis I, people call me Zeuge, or insane.
I have been legally adult for few years, and I hate have started to kind of like that, self proclaimed weirdo, born crazy and chaos is my life(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
I dreamt of you again and this time it wasn’t something soul shattering heart clutching but we sat and has a conversation, I’m sorry I forgot a lot of what it was,
All I know is it was cold and blue and I’m forgetting you.
There is someone new, not a lover but a friend, just like what I wanted to see in you, they sang for me the songs of my favourite man, and I tried really hard to remember you, your voice, your laugh but I couldn’t,
I laughed at his quirky remarks and forgetting lyrics and I know I have seen that film before but I couldn’t remember it at all.
I kept erasing you from my life, the calls, the texts, the voice notes, the screenshots I used to go back to, I removed them all. I don’t try to find breadcrumbs of your existence on internet either anymore.
I stopped writing poetry because it all watered down to you but now I want to write again, and it won’t be about you, not as much as it used to be. And I wished truly to forget you but now it feels like I’m cheating on my love by trying to do so.
My loVe I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep loving you. I let the hurt seep in and paint my love in darkest hues, maybe if I wasn’t so sad, it still would have been you, singing for me calming me down, but I loved you and I will keep loving you but locked away in past. I’m sorry, it’s over, I am forgetting you.
𝔖𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯
Memories are stuck in the nooks of my gut, waiting in the state of disorder to be digested into simpler things, . like the Rage that twists and churns inside my chest, in the sacred place where my lover’s kisses were supposed to be planted, . like the Shivers on my fingers, which were supposed to only write about love, . like the Desolation that rests within the hollowness of burnt bones, once gushing full of warmth.
Nostalgia makes one yearn, of the times that seem so delicate and pure, leaving the bleakness of it all. . It’s true, one chose to be a Blinded fool, and for once and all, I shall pluck my eyes and throw them across the sea . if that means I will get a glimpse, again, of your ghastly love, before the ink of your name on my body, and the tattoos I doodle over there, instead of cutting me half, fade.
if I fill all my loneliness, I can make a human out of me that’s just fulfilling the empty spaces. A human that will actually be complete, something very different from who I am.
