I knew it was already killing me. I could feel it. The moment I saw him, I felt it in my heart. The disease.
It took over all of me. It took over my body first. Soon it got to my mind. I saw it coming slowly. I knew where it was going. When it went into my heart I knew I was lost. I was suddenly sick.
It all happened too fast after that. Somehow I kept getting worse and worse. When I thought I couldn't take it anymore, it got worse again.
I didn't want to see him. Every time I lay my eyes on him I died a little.
And I wanted to die
in his eyes
in his smile
in his voice
in his mind
in his soul
in his heart.
In the hollow of his throat.
In the space between his ribs.
A place to place my bones.
Yep. I was totally sick. I could see it in the ways I wanted to turn him into warm words. How I wouldn't stop comparing him to lost impossible universes. He turned into the greatest mystery of my spirit. His light was too bright for my weak eyes.
He was like a hardcore drug. One I wouldn't be able to recover.
I always needed contact with his skin.
And that's when he got sick.
When he got sick it all made sense.
When I thought it would get worse again
gone was all pain
We were suddenly cured
because
We were sick together.
This is my love/hate for valentines day. I wouldn't even bother to post it on the right day.
The heart drawing was made by me, it's still a WIP. But it's about to get all fucked up so before I mess it up I think it deserves to be captured.
