You are the songs that I sing in the middle of the night when all else is sleeping. The habit that I know is going to kill me but I still wear around my waist like a belt of life. You were as short as Christmas morning without the presents under the tree. And at the same time, you were all the days in my year. Monday is holding you close to my breaking bones and Saturday is suicide day. When I pushed you away. On Sunday I found no other gods as I was praying at your departing heels. Begging you to stay with the voice in my eyes. But you are no god and so you cannot read invisible words. You are no deity to hear my thoughts. And so you walked away. Mistaking the pleas in my eyes for pity and nonchalant indifference. But you were not the one plaited in risk. It was I all along who risked inexistence at the loss of you. It was like trying to see a setting sun over a goliath mountain, trying to imagine myself without you. Impossible and hurts my eyes. Sinks my self-taught charade of a sense of self-confidence faster than a typhoon would overturn a dingy. Suddenly, it’s all black and empty. And I’m falling while you laugh and you are fading away. Away with the rising mist of memories and my slipping life.
You’ll be that book I quote from every time I am in the company of my learned friends. You will be that book that in which I learned my lessons from. The book drawer in which I hide all my secret evil and shameful inclinations. Ten years from now, I will still wear you around my sleeve in oneness with my belt of life and death. I will take you off every evening and I will study you with the longing eyes of an old war widow. I will pick apart and build back up our years together. I will remember every memory like it was written in my veins. I will trace all the curves in your face in my mind with the precision of the one who carved you. And I will hang you by my bedside to sleep with me through the time and through the distance. I will never forget.
So hold me tonight like I’m made of steel and hung on tightly like my walls are stone. Hang on like you are a thousand meters up and there’s nothing but cliff down under your feet. Lose yourself in me like own your eyes and I will show you the way. It will mostly not be the right way but it will feel good. That is the only guarantee I can sell you. And it will be painful. It will be so, so painful. It will feel like hell giving birth inside your heart. And your chest will crumble to dust. But the splendor of being put back together little piece by little piece will shadow and spill over any feeling you previously had. With my hand I will build you back up to divine proportions or I will smile at you when we build ourselves together to ravishing desires. Either way I will always be by your side.
Do this as an assurance that long after you are nothing, you will still live through me. I will bear such a haunting and distinguishable mark of your presence upon me the women after you will see it glow like a red lightsaber in the dark.