Elucidating Questions

It wasn’t that I thought you owed me

I was just so desperate to see you even if it was only for one day

But then I realise that day would mean everything

And it would just end up with me wanting more

I’m selfish.

I’m sorry that one day alone wouldn’t be enough for me

But it’s not that you owe me it I just

Wanted to see you

And still do but it’s

So muddled and messy now. If everything reminds me of things that happened

The slippers were an accident.

But just that and I’m back to that moment where

At any moment

I didn’t know what followed but I wanted to believe I would meet you

Or I did,

Then I really did

But I still don’t know why.

It didn’t fix anything it made it so much worse.

My hand broke.

My finger broke for no reason.

New Year’s happened.

Why?

The man bares the face of anger he reaches not as the other did as if to aid but as if to strike and

There is a much larger hand that holds out, in pieces and shards

Searching for the evening star

Planet the whisps of other clouds as the man claps his hands together

As if he understands

Does he?

The hands have already faded away.

Purple and quiet, but I hear an argument within and hope to hear it

Such a strange thing but it

Makes me feel alive to be close to the sound of it,

To see as it strikes.

The man is gone

The cloud appears to be making that odd ok sign the kids make these days.

Does this mean the clouds are going to punch me or what?

The clouds look like a man, old, bearded, his hair long, he is curled up in a tight ball

The clouds look like a hand reaching out to him

The cloud begins to fade, the man is looking up, the sun makes it look like he has hope

But the side I see, is mostly in darkness and I don’t know what the man is holding but it isn’t his knees anymore

The hand becomes three hands reaching.

But he is pulling away and his shape is gone

Left behind dark water colour skies and clouds floating by.

It has been seven days since I saw someone who wasn’t

Coworker

Or classmate.

So many lines and scripts.

I wish I could have accepted the one invite I got to be a person.

I’m just standing on a different side of the road waiting until I can go again

Trying not to feel but I’m so lonely and I need to do something or my brain eats itself.

But if I feel it hurts so much I can’t breathe.

I just wanted to go back to sleep.

Why did I have to wake up for this?

I don’t want to hear about the things that happened or how it’s confusing.

I don’t want to hear anymore about thoughts I had or feelings or how this sounds like that or how he’s in this song or that or whatever the fuck

On the other side is this

What the fuck do you want from me?

All I ever wanted from you was company and you fucking turned it sexual.

You fucking asked for me.

You fucking keep putting it there.

I just wanted to see you and instead I get shit fucking all

And a dream where you sent me a selfie of you having a good time partying in the dark where I still couldn’t even see your fucking face

I can’t even escape your absolute bullshit in my dreams anymore.

You were never invited to those.

I already have to deal with him every night

Feeling loved and not questioning it and seeing it and waking up and willing myself to forget it and remember every other dream that tries to slip away.

Either set me free or make me forget both of them completely.

I wish I could wake up and have no fucking clue who I am.

I fucking wish I could.

I wish I was invited.

But I never am.

I wish I had the option, but I haven’t been.

Well except by the new person but I regret not being able to go and I would have enjoyed it and instead

Whatever that is so I can eat nothing but I can pay rent.

I don’t have anywhere to go. I don’t have anything to do.

I already said,

I love everything. And I don’t have enough left to show it anymore.

That would require feeling.

I can’t let myself feel.

Why didn’t you kill yourself?

I ask and its point blank because we do this, it’s how this sort of relationship works.

He looks over blankly.

Goes over aspects of his life that may have led to a feeling like that he looks up and to the left

He’s thinking of those nights that went on for years too but he looks back and he says

Because I got angry.

I wasn’t sad.

He says

They took from me.

I say,

I attempt to give everything and it never works.

It diverges and then I figure out the inner working of his mind while trying to ignore mine because

He still holds his head up high and knows he’s not beneath just because they have more and I don’t know how

Maybe writing a strong person is all I can do

Just like all I can do is write a person who experiences love

I can’t be or have either.

I’m never invited.