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A small piece of sun, shone on your wavy hair.
The petals died; they flew out my fingers.
I felt a blooming scar, smoldering like flowers; born of a rain in spring.
On the bridge, I felt the light tremble of your smile, etched and ever moving like the stars.
I was an alien, one that grew from the earth.
And you were an alien too, one that fell out the sky.
Though you were the most human, and your being covered mine, inviting me to be human too.
But you left, and that hand is now a closed fist, no matter how long I hold on.
And yet I won’t let go, because that hand is just as warm as that day, and I don’t ever want to let go.
—
That day, you with your face of loss, reached over the railing.
I didn’t know you then, but your eyes glimmered with a special brand of longing, and I had to come to know you.
‘I want to be human’ those words I kissed, hooking my being to yours; those which I never forgotten, though I have now become God.
My mouth obeys me like a puppet, a porcelain heart seamed with gold; yet my flesh disobeys, unfitting for a God.
Duties, responsibilities, the coldness of being.
I left and crammed you in a box, your little voice tearing the cloth of my skin, and I was inhuman, rejecting humanity.
The hand you sang into being, the space we created, I wished to eviscerate, to close my eyes as it crumbled; yet I cut a gash that bled instead, my eyes turned as it flooded the world.
If I could be just like Scorpio, my corpse igniting the starry night, I would gain the happiness you spoke of; with you looking up in tears, as I forget how I’ve hurt you.
Though you would not forget, for you reject forgetting; the memories surge and wash you whole, leaving you struggling to reach; where you never stop reaching.
I want you to grab my wrist so tight I wince; as you dig your nails deep as I resist you, where your palm sweats into my wooden arms, warmth invading me whole.
And when our eyes meet, I would spit in your forgiving face, to watch it trickle down as you stand unwavering.
I want to take that face of yours that day, to crack that porcelain heart of mine and bury it deep, deep so I would not forget no matter how many times I toss you away, how many times you come back ever stronger; that I cower into the sea of my unshed tears.
As you tremble and scream, I choke on your brightness, the rasp of your throat strangling mine, injecting me with soil, the earth, and I lurch as that sea washes all blood away; and I remember for a moment, that I want to be human.
Before I destroy it once more, the distance solid and ever present.