I was the Apple of Her Eye . . . The Eye of Rejection

Along a dark road, I sit and await your arrival. I don’t know where you have been this whole time, but it must be somewhere safe. Those eyes come closer and shine to me. My eyes I cut with foggy glass only to see clearer than before. I am not aware of your presence as I drink the night away. I am not someone’s allegory of a beautiful future. I am no savior. I sit beside the side walk and like you I am stuck in the delusional thing we call love. I wait and wait for something to happen, but it never does. I wake and cease the day with hopes and dreams of your arrival but you never come. You never will. I take each breath in knowing that, and bowing my head to some untainted god, wishing that only you would have the knowledge that I exist. I implore myself into you. I see the light from your eyes, and I wouldn’t want me either. Not after all this. Not after the bomb went off, and I stuck to higher grounds, while you surged the sea. You reign of some divine substance that I cannot consume. I cannot take in. I am not the person you see fit, nor do I. Distance is where I roam, searching for that next breath of fresh air. When it will come, I’ll be stooping low on my feet dwindling in the vast essence of the past. You will be loved, somewhere else far away. Untouchable. Unreachable. Not tainted by my simple hands. And I will go through with what is another one of these play ground delusions. I’ll spring in my step and rejoice in the fact that you will become a shell to me. Exterior. Something of the past that has no meaning as of now. Yet as time creeps on at this moment you are nothing but whole. You are lingering in my mouth as I inhale. I take a step back and memories flood in detail. All of which you broadcast your entire being into me. On top of me, fucking me. There was something there, was there not? It’s the meaning that will fade not the past. And when it does I’ll be bright and chipper waiting on the side lines for my ride to freedom. As of now, I am stuck here, with you in my head. Dreaming of a touch. Dreaming of a bastard tomorrow, which will never come. Because you will never see what I saw. And your words before jump through my head. As I had explained I lived in a road where I was everyone’s savior. I was some god forbidden goddess stuck in their blurry dreams. Do you recall? When I said nothing, and yet a portrait was painted of me, those who say I am the one and only. The love. The light. I would nod and laugh. I would watch them fall short of what I wanted. And now somehow I have become that. Without a word you have captured me and made me some creature, of those I so destroyed. Reluctantly I call out for you. Reluctantly I admit, you still hold something dear to me. Why? Am not what I use to despise? What brought us great laughter at the night as we would speak of the past? I am burdened by your being, not forever, yet I feel the thought of losing such a love is which would make life not possible to live. And I hold you dear to me. Though you’re so happily living in the real world. I hold you dear. I will keep holding, until the tide washes me back to sea.