They heard my cries, but did they whisper to one another
about my pains, my belonged sorrows of fear. There I stood upon which I would
call shivering waves of tempting tides of love and hate; both exotic and fundamentally
underdeveloped to the extent they can become. Much is known about the things I
wish to share with you; here I am lying in a bed of memories.
The only ones I have of you.
I pull fragments of each second I got to spend with you, the
touches underneath each breath I was able to take around you. The one that
always seems to live on inside my darkest corner, the way you didn’t kiss me or
thrill the premonition I had always wished for, between me and you.
Bloody mirrors, paint the way of what honestly could have
been, definitely still could be. I fear, as many times before me in making a choice.
To taking that chance, here I will live with you, always in an infatuating
romance of love and desire.
Those are things you always wish for, times you go back to.
Recalling memories you always wish to step through and
become again. Relive the fantasy of living in such a moment of you and I. If I
cover my eyes will you become the person I have longed for and so desired? Will
we speak of unending times of running away to once lived romance, to somewhere
alive inside of us?
Blindness covers me and still you make me keel over in a
torture pain in my gut, I have to see you. The rush of what could be secretly
wants me to let it take over, devour every good intention I ever existed in.
But, it would never work. Things such as fantasy never seem too, so I’ll live
out my last desires with you, upon this wrinkled page of thoughts and somewhat begot
feelings; I once loved to reminisce in.
Now I am searching for a destiny, a reality that I don’t
have to keep putting in quarters in the slot machine to live over, again, and
again. You’d be there right alongside of each nightmare, holding my touch with
such fragrant fiction that you would kiss away any pain I had in me, I loved
you, then and there in the twilight of my dreams. You were always there in the
back of my pocket, waiting to become reacquainted with my imagination.
I will take you anywhere you want, my dreams are fading and
suddenly I want more out of you, the more I had not really ever gotten the
chance to be a part of. Looking back upon everything I had, everything I wanted
to have with you, with myself, I am sick with envy. Most of us, wishing to live
as we did, in the moment of times we can remember.
I wish for, I live everyday to be that way. Living in each
memory as if I will remember them all, because they are all that elastically
brilliant to you, to me.
Truly that is really the only place you have ever really,
breathed a free atmosphere, inside of my own free atmosphere, in the world of
imagination. Creative spurts of happiness overflow to your part of the haven I
have given up to you.
My time spent fantasizing about what could-be, I want to
touch basis with hormones, undiscovered.
In the end, we are just like that a faded memory made up
into a story created by a lust, or desire I am not being fulfilled by, an hour
of your time and here I stand oblivious to reality. Maybe, I never wanted it to
be true. Dreaming on an open dream.
Wish, a little?
-S.M. Bjarnson
I hope you all are enjoying the short stories I have been posting, please feel free to comment and talk amongst the fellow readers, we are all living a storyline.
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