in which you live
The sky is perpetually slate blue
Drizzles become a downpour without exception
And you disappear every time
right before I lie half-awake on my bed
attempting to fall back into that state
where it feels like my insides
are being cut open by the jagged pieces
of my broken heart
The state when I finally remember
what it feels like to be vulnerable
To be hurt
A burnt child loves fire, Oscar Wilde said
Perhaps we’re obsessed with conquering what we can’t
But to me there’s also something addictive
about a certain type of aching
It’s about my infatuation
with the elegance of a dancing flame
and how it seduces my senses feverishly
How its vigor renders me defenseless
This is my kind of intimacy with the fathomless world
To appreciate and consume the beauty of it
is to be exposed and powerless
To be honest and unapologetic
even if it means hurting the other person
to reignite what has been long-lost
Because what we’ve never been told is that
Numbness leaves a more obtrusive burn mark
I self-hypnotized my mind back into the dream
in which I was soaked under the pouring rain
not able to search for you
among all the other blurred faces passing by
Repenting for telling you to leave me forever
My cheeks lukewarm from countless tears
Yet every inch of me was falling in love with each second I spent
in this sick little echo chamber I'd built myself
