I wanted to heal you. I knew you you were broken. Were fragile. I knew you were delicate. But your calmness stirred the storm in me that blew away the dust that had settled on me. And my own broken pieces fell out. You bled. I saw. I watched in misery but couldn't reach you. I too was bleeding, internally. You pulled away while I sat there. I called out but the glasses were drawn. Already. I thought maybe if I shout loud enough it'll pierce through the shell. Maybe if I wanted you enough you'd want me back. And I'd become that innocent boy again. The one who believed in happy endings after all. But maybe it's not in destiny of the desert rose to bloom. Maybe it's supposed to be just an irony.
I wanted to be wanted. The desire to be desired. The longing to be longed for. The hope for a spring. But sometimes the winters just settle in. Sometimes the pain becomes so heavy that you can just wait. Wait for the past to become the future again. But then time doesn't go round in circles. It just moves on.
I held my hand to touch you to caress the wounds. But couldn't reach you. And i suddenly feel hollow, as if something has snapped, something has gone missing suddenly. I thought it was heartache and then I felt my hands go wet. Blood was soaking my clothes. I knew the texture, but the smell was a little familiar, a little known. I had forgotten how my blood smelled. But this time, it had a different odour. Maybe it was your blood mixing in it, or maybe I just have bad memory. We kissed, through the blood, through the tears, through the smiles, through pain, through darkness.
And then you were gone.
And now here I am. Numb. Sad. Stunned. Silent. The heart becomes so heavy that it pulls you down. Every passing moment you're dragged further down the endless pit. You keep falling. Hoping that somehow the fall will alleviate the pain. That somehow there'd be magic wand after all. With one swoosh the lines would change.
But the destiny doesn't change. It stays. It's written. What you just control is how to win. Or how to lose. The loss you said was yours. I wonder how that could be true. Because all you've lost is me, what I've lost, is hope.