TUESDAY, 9 JUNE 2015 || 1.22AM.
There's a faint aftertaste of vodka on my tongue and the struggle to scrape it off reminds me of how I fought so hard to let you walk out the front door. ( Your heart has shrivelled up among the dandelions I used to care for and I guess you need a change of environment to bloom again. That's all I really want to see now. ) I remember how your weary footsteps whispered of your exhaustion and tears fell from the gray clouds in my eyes, I mean, how could I have been so selfish to cage your heart up just for my incredulous satisfaction? Oh how I wish it would storm tonight, and maybe, just maybe, you'd turn around and hold me tight, leaving sweet mutterings of reassurance down my jawline. You told me you'd never leave me behind in the storm.
3.48AM.
Torrents of rain fall like the grim charges I've heaved upon myself ( because when I set you free, I locked myself in the cell instead ) and I can't help but meekly pull open the door to the telephone box and almost collpse on its grimy glass walls. I pull a dime from my pocket and punch in the digits to your number but just as I hover over the button of the last digit, the gulp that I've been forcing down surfaces again and I slam down the phone and run out of the phone box. Hearing your voice is the last thing that would make me happy right now.
I unconsciously wander into the empty subway station. Dazed, I lower myself onto a cold steel bench and place my hand cautiously on the seat you'd take next to me each time we visited this place together. I can almost taste the drops from the melted popsicle you'd buy for me every weekend on my tongue but that memory soon vaporises like all the others and joins the gloomy clounds suspended in the sky. These tracks under my feet have never been more bare; the gravel I've stepped into has never been more still and I can't help but remember your crooked analogy of how each passing train symbolised an opportunity. You'd once smiled sadly at the ground and muttered, "Once mispsed, it's gone forever." Have I lost my chances now? Here I am serving my sentence in tormenting misery and it feels like you're the one who shut me behind the bars. For a moment, the sparks in my fists are lit again and I can't help but hate you. Anger riots within me but quickly bubbles to a froth when I realise it was me who'd clipped your wings and took away your skies. It was I who had locked you away just to try to untangle the vines entwined around my heart.
