Dire Love

142 10 2
                                    

Incapability to live without it,
To wish it was easier upon her,

Her love, gives me sparks and still makes butterflies literally plummet in my stomach and constantly wish to be free, it's something she doesn't realize she does, just the simplest things that she does in her routine and I mind with my unrequited line of sight when she mindlessly scratches at the paper marks in her journal letting free her hate and despondency.
The gradual detachment she tries to free herself from me, pains me in the sense, because I'm still stuck here, in that moment where we literally couldn't be without each other for five minutes, but that's been lost for her.
Her love however has not, but I wish I could somehow manage to make her stay when that frees up and she no longer grasps that either.
The person I once had the foolish remark of calling my soul mate has decided to walk a different path, and I don't know what hurts more, my eyes or my heart, from the crying or from the love that's constantly pouring out.
Because the more she pulls away, the more I want to pull her closer and just let her know this is everything to me, but that doesn't matter anymore to her.
She'd rather taste the poison in her throat, or the nicotine in her lungs, or the whisper of the I love you she so badly doesn't wish to say anymore, the waste of oxygen she speaks when she tells me she wants to be here, the tiredness in her eyes that tell me she no longer wishes to look at me before we fall asleep, but instead wished to erase me from her eyesight and mind.
I only wonder where I went wrong, or how I can mend her.
I just don't know what to fix, her heart or her brain, I don't think either one I decide will fix what she feels for me, because I am a apparition of what she once loved.

DisperseWhere stories live. Discover now