INFLORESCENCE

bleeding heart

...part one

SHE LEAVES YOU THEN.
she leaves you and you force a smile, smile of pain of joy of longing and defeat.
she leaves you to quarrel, to spit venom when your pleads say you're okay but mutely drip in agony, to let tears slip in solitude while laughter rings false when they watch you.

pity isn't it? pity when they leave and all you can do is think— what about me?
how selfish of you, of you of you of you— how selfish of you.

not everything is about you, you remind yourself and maybes thats why you're not crying— because if you do, you admit to your defeat, admit to your ignorance, admit to narcissism. but all the same, why don't you cry? because it hurts too much when you do? Because tears are your weakness and your heart breaks in silence as your face remains a statue?

she's leaving, your mind screams and yet your fingers type on keyboard keys instead of the blue bubbles of messages in which you cry i'll miss you. you will, it's not a lie, it's not excessive because surely ten years gives you at least that.

pain when they hurt, joy when they smile, and the irrevocable feeling of emptiness when they are gone.

you press send to lighthearted nothingness, a filler to the actual truth, and you say you're okay, you say it is fine, it is for the best because if you state the contrary it's selfish. it's selfish to say it's not, that you're not okay, it's selfish to beg for something different if you know that notion could not come true. So you paint murals of smiles on your face, covering up scars with pastel until they think you're happy, but when the door shuts and the paints wash away all is left is tears, trickling like rain drops on windows when we lay in darkness and the croak of a story telling voice rang.

my smiles ring true, because you make me happy, you make me whole; but so do my tears. salt on my tongue, cold on my heated skin, so utterly agonizing when you are gone, like acid leaving trails of bruises. ruining the soils of my skin, of my insides as it twists, and the flowers of my being and my heart that blossoms at your presence suddenly wilts, drying up as petals fall and i cry more because our garden is dying.

it's dying, it's dying can't you see it dying?