Unduly Noted

5:05.
Wasteful.
I masterfully craft the world around me.
A masterpiece, it is.
Control.
It’s not slipping, thought some would say it is.
My power is merely getting greater.
Stop.
Power? That’s what I’ve been fighting for?
You never hear of the martyr that died for power.
Do you.
No, the ones who die for power are humorless tyrants.
I’m no tyrant, maybe.
I just am so afraid.
My fear keeps me fighting for those reins.
And those reins I fight for are so ridiculously easily obtained.

Sweetness.
It’s in the sea of emerald bowing underneath the weight of my feet.
i found away.
It’s in the dirty water that crashes down on itself,
still creating the achingly beautiful illusion of sparkles.
Too beautiful to observe.
I contemplate my fear.
I contemplate the unknown.
cloaked in ugly darkness.

I contemplate your face.
Especially those eyes of yours.
I used to think they were so beautiful
just because they weren’t mine.
Sometimes I saw shadows,
the Reaper’s figure,
perhaps strands of red.
Sometimes I saw emotions that
made me double over,
with their weight.
Weight I couldn’t handle.
Weight I might never be able to handle.
Now, sometimes,
I see feathered lips
reaching out for mine.
And the ice that always stood in the way.

I was not broken, I don’t let myself get broken.
Being broken hurts.
My heart is too fragile,
my tears so easy to come.
So I shut out.
Like the streetlights.
One by one.

No one can touch you.
You sparkle of your own volition.
You use sweeping gestures,
carry an easy smile.
I look at you,
believe you are mine alone.
You can’t be.
There’s too much ice.
I don’t let the heat in.
Heat burns.
heat hurts.
heat breaks.
I will not be broken.

I break you instead.
I wrap you around my fingers,
I smile, you bend over backwards.
You struggle to regain your ego,
try to stuff your heart back into your throat.

I am not malicious,
just afraid.
you need someone.
i’m convinced
that i need no one.

buttermilk petals plucked,
resting between my fingers.
glass around here feels like granite.
i always have a smile for you,
never for myself.

you’re in the backdrop now.
i find myself immersed in forests,
freezing rivers,
cloudy, moonless nights.
carpe noctem;
soul must be recovered.

heart must be restored.

heat must be delicious.

soon,
day will claw its way in,
with its burning sun,
with its cheerful laughter,
river sparkles,
indigo twilights scorched by the rosy sun.

i anticipate.
manipulating myself
into faith.

5:25
the world holds a key bronzed by a soaking sun.

♥akm