Work Text:
She's fractured my mind —
tell me, how can someone
wear beauty like a curse,
like a blade bound in silk?
It's been a year,
and I'm still here,
heart in shreds,
as if sweetness itself were
rotting inside me
like a cavity.
I can't take it.
God, end my misery.
She's the kind of beautiful
that births paintings,
inspires visions too vast
for a human brain to hold.
If every soul on earth —
all 8 billion —
were to spill their most
breathtaking dreams
and stitch them into one
infinite horizon,
she would still eclipse it.
For she is more radiant
than my own imagined heaven.
Thinking of her makes me want
to tear my heart out,
to wring it dry,
to be left with nothing —
because that's how she leaves me feeling:
void.
My mind cannot process her.
To look too long feels like combustion —
my pulse faltering,
chest stuttering,
body teetering
on the edge of collapse.
I've never heard her voice —
but I know —
God, do I know —
it would bring me back to life.
And so I remain — alive,
in awe of her.