Ophelia [a.m]

𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖗

To say I want you, is not enough.

  It never would be.

  I was never good with words.

  I don't know what I'm doing.

  It's unfair to you, I know.

  All my life, if I wanted something, I'd have it.

  Can I have you?

  It sounds possessive of me.

  Perhaps it is.

  I know you're human.

  I know I can't own you.

  Can I have you?

  The words wanted to depart from my tongue but they wouldn't and now I was just standing there, touching you.

  Is this bliss?

  I've never known it before.

  If it is I want to get drunk off it.

  I'd gotten so used to suffering I forgot there was supposed to be hope.

  Can I have you?

  I don't know what I'm doing.

  I'm lost.

  You've touched my heart and now I don't know what do with myself.

  You told me to have a Happy Christmas.

  I want that with you.

  That's why I asked.

  I can't say it.

  I don't know why.

  Can I have you?

  Your hand comes over mine.

  Yes.

  For a moment I thought you read my mind.

  It'd be easier if you could.

  Strangers.

  That's what we were.

  I make strangers of all the people in my life.

  I want to know you.

  You squeeze my hand and leave.

  I panic.

  You look at me and smile.

  I'll get ready for bed, then.

  My heart eases.

  You could kill me right now and I'd be thankful.

  Part of myself wants you to.

  Right now is perfect.

  It's enough, it's all I could ask for.

  I don't want it ruined.

  It won't last.

  So end me now.

  But I want to lay with you.

  The way you put it made the notion seem to intimate and pure.

  Laying with you.

  The closest thing to Heaven I'd ever get.

  You walk out in your night gown, the opaque blue stark against your skin.

  Can I have you?

  I'm afraid to touch you now.

  I panic.

  In the bathroom I can't breathe.

  I clutch the marble counter, it hurts my hands.

  The knuckles are nearly splitting through the skin.

  Who am I to lay with you, Ophelia?

  How have I earned that place?

  Water droplets collect on my skin as the icy water shocks me.

  You're here. You're with me. You haven't left.

  Why haven't you left?

  When have I ever been kind?

  Why do this to yourself?

  I walk out and you're splayed out on the silk, my Ophelia floating along the water.

  You smile.

  Can I have you?

  You blink.

  I didn't mean to say that out loud but it's in the air now.

  You've already inhaled it.

  Don't let it poison you.

  You sit up, beckoning me closer and I stand before you, ready to be blessed.

  In what way?

  Why must you ask me all these questions?

  Do you enjoy watching me squirm?

  I trace the contour lines of your being.

  How are you real?

  My eyes meet yours and you are divinity.

  In every way.

  Why are you crying?