A Last Touch Of Earth


i watch the flame eating wet and circular into the wax, a descending well, dripping solidified heat. soon there will be no wick left to burn, and the flame will fizzle, smoking dissipating into the darkness. tonight i let you go; i wrote you goodbye and sealed my heart of our history.
i had contemplated war. i was bloodthirsty with distance, yearning to break apart the boundaries of our worlds, to penetrate your space and wash my wounds in your river. i wanted reparations for all those moments of emptiness when i reached for you and you weren’t there. for all the words i wanted to speak and couldn’t because i knew you didn’t want to hear them. for feeling like what i feel needs to be hidden.
there was a sacred space once where we would meet. i look for it now and it seems to have been a dream. or perhaps it was a reality we sullied by our pretending. sharing an intimacy requires honesty. anything else and it shutters the world into a box, into a room with no light, struggling for freedom. i cannot claim innocence.
i’d been holding it in and lying to myself for so long that when it finally broke out of me i couldn’t understand what it was. here they were, my emotions, staring me in the face, and all i could see was red. after i let them bleed and scream for a little while, i began to see their true colors.
this is what happens when you stop communicating. your words clot together and then you can’t breathe and you have to explode, you have to break down and spew them out like they were nothing, like they were everything. so i did. i sat down and i wrote a letter to you and strung up the words like a declaration of cold war, like a manifesto of love lost. for the first time in a long time i was personal, i was honest, i was pure. and i decided to never show you that letter, because it would only be fodder for your distance, a little piece of me. i don’t want to struggle with myself against you any longer. i am sick of killing, and i am tired of dying. so now i write this for myself. you will never know. you will never understand how i feel. and now you can go.

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Author: manderson

I live in NYC.

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