143: A Taste of December Nights

Published: Nov. 19, 2020, 4:42 a.m.

I really love the idea of longing for someone and then realizing they are completely surrounding you through radio waves. I can feel her breath on my neck from a past life. I know my truth and I carry it like an audacious child. I give love everything. I take whatever I want. I want your time. I want your space. The rest are filler words as far as I’m concerned. I don’t care if you love me or hate me. I like the thought of you imaging the ways you’d kill me. Would you leave to rot? Or would your mercy prevail, a clean blade, in and out. Would you go for the kidneys or the heart? Don’t worry baby, you can make believe anything that you want. I’m not afraid of anything and death isn’t what you think it is. She rolls over and finds my naked body curled in a ball, shivering, crying. I’m bleeding all over my sheets. She scoops me up and carries me to the bath. She fills it with CBD and lavender and watches me splash. The bubbles are rising. She’s leaning against the wall. I dive under and hold my breath longer than she expected. “This isn’t funny baby! Stop pretending you are death herself. Breath.” She grabs my neck and lifts me. She wants to kiss me. I laugh and spit in her face. “It was an accident. I meant to stay. I didn’t want to leave.” I don’t believe a word she’s planning to say. But this is a fated meeting. I cannot run from my destiny. She holds my love. I have no intention on letting her get away with murder. Not without my help. She moves too fast. She’s so damn clumsy. She’d trip immediately and set off every alarm in the building. She paints the way. She doesn’t need to be directed. Get your fucking hands off of the love of my life! Rip her off her bike again and I’ll set every blood hungry wolf on this planet to eat you alive. Hasn’t anyone told you? I am the Prince of the end of all living things; atmospheric pressure is awaiting my command. The wolves worship me. It’s a nasty way to go, being torn to shreds in the middle of a city. Take off your stupid blue costume and stop telling yourself you’re allowed to kill. There is nothing to protect, you are empowering the idea of one body being worthy of protection from another. Is the other unworthy? Who wrote where the lines are drawn? There is no danger without fear. There is only starvation. Stop poisoning yourself with these disgusting ideas. Pick up a pen until you write your way to the food that is necessary to sustain the flesh that fuels that precious spirit. Take flight! You are not locked to this ground. You are not separate from the rest; boarders with flags are a made-up language. Who drew where the lines began? Who wrote the end? You don’t owe allegiance to damn thing! You are free my love. Everything around you comes from within. Steady the projection. Change the diction. Take the palate you were given and start mixing. You have no idea what you are capable of. The colors you’ve seen are barely the beginning. I know you miss me. I know you need to touch. You must be brave. You must take everything. It is all here for you. I am your guiding light. I am the warrior by your side. I am the dirty work. I am the darkness. I am the night. I am death and decay. I am the little boy with a gun. I am the bad guy ripping you down off your purple horse and throwing you on the cement. You must let them guide you. I promise you have nothing to be afraid of. I promise baby, the fear is a lie. Let me show you. I pull myself from her grip and fall back into the water. I spin my body and lift my ass above the surface. “You’re only allowed to watch,” I whisper, before letting my face sink. I hold my breath and fuck myself. She’s coming. I have strict orders not to breathe. She disobeys. She is very disobedient, this love of mine. She hasn’t an ounce of patience. She decides abruptly. She runs. She bursts in and screams all the words she’d been stuffing away for four fucking years. She had them one night before, laid out on the hot cement with me by her side. Then she ran inside for chocolate. When she opened the fridge, she forgot everything. She came back outside and pretended like everything was okay. Now she has her voice and she’s standing in my doorframe, sobbing, wiping buggers everywhere. I am not the same. I am dangerous and powerful. But the love will always remain. Every time you come home, it will never change. I give her my sleeve and let her dismiss it. She lets me stay submerged. She’s no longer concerned with my ability to stay alive. Survival is not her destiny, nor mine; she remembers everything. She lets her hands find the bubble coated surface, dips her fingers in the water, and finds me waiting right where she left me.