Torn

I used to dream we would drown each other's hearts in the ocean, our mouths choking on salt water lies, our fingers slipping as we disappeared beneath dark water.

Instead we tore our hearts from our beating chests to decorate the walls like paper lanterns, transparent, reflecting the Christmas lights through them like prisms. Open, like a sacrifice on a sacred altar; aching, if only to remind us we were alive. We wanted to live forever in a world of shiny beads and scented candles, caramel coffee and books of poetry, a world where fireworks fell from the skies and we spoke our dreams into existence by moonlight. Do you remember forever?

Your face no longer appears in my dreams. Sometimes I forget the sound of your voice, the way your skin looks in ambient light. They tell me growing apart is nothing more than growing up, but didn't we say we'd stay young forever? Instead, Time has etched her name in our skins, and the decay has reflected on our hearts - still beating, but no longer together. Maybe I was poisoned by love, and perhaps the medicine you take to keep the demons away has taken your soul as well. Changeling girl, do you even remember my name?

Last night I dreamed I buried your heart in the sand, the sun shutting her golden eye like an omen. But as your heart disappeared, I traced a map on my own, so I would always know where to find you. I feel I won't see you in my dreams for a long time. Sometimes I don't know whether to say I'm sorry - or goodbye.




(Copyright - Cho Kucifer - 10/29/2011)