wordplayground

you disappeared too quickly and
there is a sea of unspoken words
stretched over these miles, and
this time it is your distance,
not mine.

i step forward and back, afraid
i might cross a line without knowing
where it lies, yet knowing it exists.
have i said too much? or maybe not
enough.

i would first want to leave because i found reminders of you
everywhere.
and now, 
two thousand miles from anything you touched, i feel empty from
your absence.

your fingers whisper
softly across my skin,
relishing each imprefection
until all in turn felt perfect,
bringing forth a wet river
of heavy breathing and a 
racing heart, which
in the interludes, hesitatingly
(and yet without hesitation)
opened itself to you
as never before.

my heart, which so often 
gave the perception of open-
ness, knows it has been shielded,
alone. it builds a window, but
your fingers, experienced in 
these things
do not want what's inside.
my heart wants recognition
of the window, because people
actually had to die
in its construction.
"look at me" it cries
(silently) and with pride, but
your fingers do not hear.

they are preoccupied 
with finding the answer to life, and
my heart could only 
answer for itself.

sitting, watching how slowly the time passes by
i move so i can't see the clock
time has stopped
i just have to sit here and wait for time to start moving
i try to force myself to do something,
go somewhere
but i don't want to be seen.
i don't want to talk.
if i sit for too long they'll notice 
then they'll know something's wrong and they'll ask a bunch of questions i can't answer.
i get up and get a diet cherry coke because some feeling that must be hunger is growling in my stomach.
time still isn't moving.
i made myself a beautiful room so i could sit in it while time was stopped.
so i could sit in it knowing there is something wrong with me.
that i'm not ever going to fit.
i always make beautiful rooms.
i stay in them a while, then i pack it all in boxes so i can make a new room.
and they're all so different looking.
i hear footsteps and 
i beg that they don't come to my beautiful room and ask me some ridiculous question.
i don't want to be seen.
i want to disappear like time.

distancing myself 
one two three steps back
it's safer here
where i can watch you
where i can protect myself
i've been hurt too many times
call it what you like
fear of commitment
abandonment issues
the name doesn't matter
the disease is the same
i put perfection in strange models
project it upon myself
i never fit
i never live up to the expectations
so i'm regressing to distance
safety by myself
one two three steps back