Sunday, 27 September 2015

I was woken up with a seething rage this morning. It was a bitmap of you, black and white, with your arm around her like a shield, pursed lips, half-lidded eyes.

I've never felt so dizzy.

You used to be a safe place for me to retreat when things go wrong, when I want to reach for something but they're just too far away and I couldn't accept that. You and your soulful voice like butter dripping, like waves hitting rocks on a windy Saturday. You and your hazel eyes, brooding in vacancy like you know you've got nothing to lose. The ink on your skin. The glide of your hands on round surfaces, on any surface.

I couldn't have that anymore. You're too different now. Are you even 'you' anymore? Are you the same person I trusted my heart with years ago?

These questions are killing me, and every substance in my veins are loathing the stunts you pulled. But my skin crawls at the thought of losing you forever, even if it's just a consideration.

I hate you. Please come back. Be the person I knew.

Can you hear that? 

I hate you so much, now please slip back into the shell you've long forgotten, so that I can recognise you.

Let me know you once more.

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