My heart bloomed in February. Fiery passion consumed me whole.
You planted seeds of red-orange flowers aroudn the perimeter of my heart, watering it daily, secretly. I didn't notice what you were doing, I didn't notice when the plants had germinated, only when the flowers had blossomed did I feel the fire.
I couldn't pluch the flowers; they were too beautiful. I couldn't stop myself from loving you; you were too beautiful.
September left my heart black and blue, raining blows on it without stopping.
You left me standing here, staring at your back as you walked away from me forever. You let me see how ugly rain could be, drowning and chilling everything it touches.
I used to think rain was beautiful, diamond prisms that never shattered. I used to think you were beautiful, your long eyelashes extending over your magnificent brown irises.
September, September, what will you do?
Will you finally grand me a reprieve? Seal the cracks with syrup?
Or will he seduce me once again with his sweet words, coating my heart in melted chocolate that will brittle and hard once dried?
You seemed like an easy
prey, something I could meddle with in my despair. Now there was nothing wrong
with you, under that August sunlight, you looked transparent, and I just wanted
to take a hold of you, as if to control you, make you mine, lay my prints all
over your fragile heart so everyone knew you were my prey.
It was cruel, that was
selfish but it’s something I don't regret, because I didn’t want to be the one
to be consumed, the one hurt, the one entranced by you.
I could feel it in my
bones, every time you smiled at me with such a gentile, innocent glance. I felt
as though you could plant seeds of love within my very soul and meddle with my
sensible heart. I wasn’t someone to mess with, lovely. And you were making me
feel out of my element, like I could fall to my death, fall off the deep end.
So before I could imagine
falling in love, with someone so beautiful like you, I did something a little
insane. I planted seeds of deception in your heart, and you fell for it. But I
gave you the option of cutting it out, like it was some kind of infectious
disease. But you left it there, growing around your heart, like it was meant to
be exactly where I placed it. You were so eloquent, so trusting.
With your smile and
enchanting laugh that left me with chills and my thoughts slipping from my
grasp. I hated it; I hated feeling out of control. That’s not me, vulnerable
and speechless. I thought you impossible to pin down, to catch… to unmask.
So in August, I left
you standing there, unable to see my terrible face of shame and regret. I was a
naïve little boy, thinking I was a man who could handle just seeing you as a
friend.
In the beginning, I
just wanted you to cover me if there was ever a fire, because I wanted you to
burn first. But in the end, I left my
back to you, saving you from the fire deep within our hearts, and I made it my
goal to see it through the rain, so our hearts could cool as the rain granted
them relief.
I felt the pitter
patter, my heart flinching like an eager reaction, like a reaction you would
get upon finding out you were going to overcome a revolting disease… but then
it dawned on me, as I walked away, even if the fire was put out,
My heart still beats
for you.
