Friday, March 7, 2014

Imaginary Lover

Words cram amidst my throat, jamming my airway. I swallow hard, forcing the lump down. My heart gasps, drowning, drenched in all those bottled up feelings. There's no more room and the pressure keeps building up. I close my eyes trying hard to feel your imaginary hand receiving my face. I shiver as I try to shake off that zap of electricity. Lyrics of a sad song play in my head as I lay thinking of you. I don't know how this is even possible, thinking of someone you've never seen nor heard. I've heard imaginary friends are fun, imaginary lovers though, I'm not quite sure. Somewhere between dreams and reality we've met. Time hadn't stopped but I have. I stopped and stepped away from everything familiar just to be with you. Walking straight through a tunnel, expecting to see the light every now and then though never reaching it. I find it hard to look back because it feels like I have come a long way, yet I've grown a thousand years staring at the darkness that lay ahead. I'm alone when it comes to reality but I've loved the illusion of being in your company. You're in my head, a piece of narcotic imagination, fed by the fire of desiring you within my heart. A heart I've once lost touch with, a heart that seemed to connect only with you my imagination. Won't you come tonight? It's been a while, and despite the fact that you've been away, I'm expecting you. I prepare the songs we shall dance to, and the words we shall exchange. I prepare for you a better version of myself, one that's more patient, wiser, surprisingly forgiving and filled with infinite love for you. I prepare our fairytale. Complicated, but I get it. I've lost myself to you. I've lost misrably my ticket back to reality. I've lost to my imagination. Banned from all means of reaching out for you, I find myself at your door. Staring at a cold wall I bleed all sorts of emotions, hoping that mercy would bring about some life into that wall. Hoping you'll somehow hear me behind that wall. I listen carefully but I can't hear you say that you love me. I stare into every face but I fail to recognise your complexion. I grasp hold onto elusive air but you are no where near tangible. You're not here but you are, you must be my imaginary lover. You must be because I couldn't be part of nothing. You must be because I couldn't have submitted myself to no one. You must be because I couldn't have fallen in love with imagination. Or could I? Echoes of that last thought reverberate across space and come back at me, exposing my kind of logic to myself. Or could I? No answer, no thoughts, no reflections whatsoever. A mere fact I'm faced with. Too good to be true, or too true to be good? Please, I plead and beg, then refrain from further squashing my dignity.  Still no answer, no matter what I do. No matter what I do I lose to you. Perfect art, secrets of drawings buried with the ingenious artists, leaving the entire world wondering, burning with curiousity and at best  guessing. You're perfect art my imaginary lover. Secret beyond resolution and perfect beyond flaw. On my knees, I stand before you in admiration, again abandoned. The thought of "normal" makes me laugh. Why can't I be normal? Why settle for normal when I've been where no one else had ever dared to set foot. Afterall, madness doesn't seem so mad. Do whatever pleases you. I will be me, I will be the greatest love your heart ever knew. I'm worn, beaten, and in my simplest form, yet torture can no longer be inflicted upon me. I've grown immune. Being stripped to the core, stripped of flesh and blood, I'm left with bone. Resilient, remaining right where it had been buried. A proof of the existance of the caracess that had once roamed amidst the living. So do as you please my imaginary lover, do as you please. Many have lords turned into slaves but never have mountains bowed to winds.