He comes at me like a knife, slicing through me with tenderness. He looks to me as he cuts me down, a beauty in his eyes. We hold each other up, both at the end of the blade. If I could back the poison and rub the memory away, I would. If I could speak freely again to a man I once called a friend, a greater title than all others. Yet he turns from me, shielding him from my awkward advances. He hides in the shadows as if ashamed of his own face. Invisible enemies scratch at his feet. They must howl terribly as he holds his ears away from their incessant accusations. The distance grows greater with each breath, each tentative heartbeat. If I could find him across the bloated chasm, I would leap across the shadows and take him from his own mind, cast away the demons that threaten my friend. If I could find him, I would follow him into his own Hell. Yet he escapes my devotion, masking his presence with curt explanation and dismissal. Like mercury, he slips through my fingers if I hold on to tightly and yet I keep trying. Chasing after tiny red beads tumbling at my feet… I’ve wasted so many words, so many metaphors in hope that he will come back to me as he was. I’ve called to him blindly in the night, hoping he will hear. Yet as the stars oversee us, they are silent in my effort. They blink back in dumb protest to my madness. Could some higher power not convey the message that I care, that I will not go away? That no matter how deep the cut is I will always keep looking to him. No love letter could be as true as this.
Love Letter
July 27, 2008 at 7:33 am (Alone, Creative Writing, Devotion, Emotions, Friend, Helplessness, Human Experience, letting go, Loss, Love, moving on, Relationships, Unrequited Love, Unresolved emotions, Writing)
