Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Poems and Short Quips - 3. Brink of Night
“I can’t see us walking off into the sunset together,” he once said
when I demanded to know,
to understand,
why he was so persistent to keep me at bay.
I lay on the rumpled pillow facing him,
recovering from the intensity of love,
gazing into his gold-green eyes –
those eyes like stained-glass windows
illuminating a prismatic soul,
leaving me with the sensation of free-falling,
too soon to hit the ground –
And I reached out to caress his scalp
and touch the light stubble on his jaw
which mirrored my own appearance,
and I whispered, “I just want to be with you, goddammit...”
while the ache in my chest and in my heart
churned harsh and painful,
like a storm inside my rib cage.
Because there was nowhere else I longed to be,
no one else I longed to be with,
than with him,
this colorful, enigmatic man who’d managed to spellbind me,
despite my resistance,
despite my determination to not be that guy.
In my own ignorance, I couldn’t see
that he was never going to be the savior of my delusion.
He couldn't ever be that.
Only I could save myself.
And for a while, sunsets no longer held color or promise for me –
Only bleak, repetitive signals to the brink of night.
- 11
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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