Whispers To The Moon

(I) The Heart

I am left with smudged kisses and cooling dread. 

The crystalline walls of my heart are painted blue and red with loneliness.

~0O0~

Tonight, i embrace my heart in my slippery fingers and examine it with keen eyes. I hold it up to the dark violet lights like an uncut jewel, turning it this way and that. Watch the light playing with the stained glass of every facet and cracked ridge. I wonder sometimes, at the emptiness. The clear glass. The loss cutting the walls of my heart so finely, the house feels haunted. The people i love press their palms to the little sign i like to keep by the threshold-kiss me once before you go. They do. They leave. The ghosts of their kisses are gentle over my wrists. The imprints are violence tearing my armour like paper. There is an echo of love here, long gone, but the memory is resounding. There are wisps that look a lot like the cigarette i almost smoked. Stencils of kisses that never were. Dreams that spill like the hurt does. Hollow and vacant and so full of things that never happened. Beating only because the agony wraps around my heart like blood should, cold and lonely.

My poor translucent heart is only a marionette strung around the fingers of people who think of people who don't think of me anymore. I don't mind. The strings wrapping around my heart have been knotted and cut too sharply sometimes, but at least my heart is being help. I press two fingers against it when its loneliness feels too loud, and i like to feel the answering beat. 

i am here, i tell it. i am coming undone just as you are. 

i don't want to be alone, it whispers. Not in the dark.

My fingers can only trace the smudged kisses and hope its enough. On good days, I stare into the walls of my heart, and see someone long gone in the reflection. On the bad ones, i dip my palms into the memories that cut like knives. i see my ache and pour in more just so it isn't alone. Alone in the dark. I wish the silences weren't quite so loud.

 On bad days, the walls fog up and the fumes of smoke spell every promise i ever broke.

But for now, i stick posters over the widening cracks. I pasted heart-shaped bandages over each wound that aches like being lonely does. I press a kiss to my own wrist and smile bravely. Stamp the memories to crushed glass and dusty torn petals under my boots.

For now, it will have to be enough.

~0O0~