A plain black and white clock hangs heavily on the wall behind my chair.
12:00, it reads. It's Thursday.
I swallow an ocean's worth of anxiety.
So afraid. So unprepared. It mustn't show.
My hands rummage clumsily through an old, multi-colored rucksack.
What am I looking for exactly? I only see you:
two large hands, strong shoulders, a chiseled jaw, a captivating smile;
two bright blue eyes changing color in the course of night and day.
I forget to breathe; I forget myself entirely.
What is my name? Where am I from? All I know is I belong with you.
A string uncoils from the rim of my heart, climbs my parched throat,
and slowly drifts in the air to the soft opening of your ripe lips.
My pulse excites fifty thousand beats a second at the least.
A hollowness grows as the ribbon of my life escapes me hopelessly.
To lose such control, to allow this weakness to glimmer in my aura--
I am ashamed and yet so entranced.
If there was anyone else in the room a moment ago, I can't remember,
but I am fully aware of your casual sighs, your fast movements.
I struggle to keep pace with this unnerving rush flowing through my veins.
Sad thoughts linger of a future you choose to avoid and a past you've already forgotten.
Self-blame explodes into a poisonous mist hovering within the depths of my stomach.
Do you notice the change in my features from a week ago?
Freshly printed papers are scattered across the blank table.
Where is the writing? Why do you seem so far away?
I try to divert my attention to the nearest window, but without success.
In my imagination, you're holding me in your arms by the warm cafe entrance.
Hold me tighter, please. I feel utterly alone.
Don't let go.
You enter, exit, and reenter the enclosed box in which we sit, a quiet group.
When you pass by, a mallet beats my chest. Won't you stop to say "hello"?
I beg my body to muster strength so a voice could express these emotions.
Is it love? Is it confusion? Results of neglect? All of them?
If a narcotic would numb the ache pulsating my temples, I'd ask for a hundred.
Let me overdose instead of watching you close the door in my face.
Secretly, I wish I could cry now. Wish you would look at me.
Wish you would remember my existence.
Little taps on my frail shoulders, childish laughter close to my ear,
whispers of typical gossip, but none of it interrupts my contemplations, unfortunately.
What are you thinking? Are you doing this on purpose?
Are you even aware of how immensely you're tormenting my soul?
You appear absolutely innocent, like a newborn baby.
There's an urge to accuse you and to kiss you.
Stereotypes flash in a realm of wonder. You've done this before, haven't you?
I should've predicted the outcome months earlier when you meant nothing.
Now you've carelessly stolen everything; my thoughts, dreams,
my heart.
Why did you make big promises ad-lib? Why weren't you thoughtful?
Don't you experience regret? Time is painful.
I trace my fingertips across the skinny figure of a pencil,
barely brushing reality. I want to go home.
An acidic sadness settles in the corners of my tired eyes.
My shoulders cave; my head falls; my hopes diminish. You open a book and disappear.
Scribble rubbish on the paper. Tears are blinding anyhow.
Grasp my reluctance to expose this. I mustn't surrender.
But what do I have left sitting here like a fragile flower stem?
You're my water. Rain, I'd rather you drown me than let me thirst horribly.
You're so near, so beautiful, too powerful. Suddenly, you glance directly
into the mirrors of my pain and I break apart; I surrender.
I forget to breathe; I forget myself entirely.
What is my name? Where am I from? All I know is I belong with you.
You turn away and I follow your gaze to the plain black and white clock hanging heavily still.
1:00, it reads.
It's Thursday.
You pack your things and all I've learned is the way it feels to die alive again.
