The moments we become one (fiction)

in #writing6 years ago


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A smile. Fingers around my waist, and a peck on my neck.

It begins.

I sigh, and I stop in my tracks, I leave it all behind for this presence in my room that demands my attention fully, and that fills my head with thoughts I could never imagine, with these feelings I never knew I could feel again. They always take me by surprise, because of how strong, how potent they are. My eyes water just at the thought of so many things felt during its stay.

Then it grabs my arms, my legs, and throws me into the bed, strips me naked and just positions on top of me, holding me and not letting me move while I feel it in my body, pulsating through my veins and pumping hot, thick blood that soon arrives at my face, and leaves me a crimson mess there, for its eyes only.

It starts slowly, it trickles down like a raindrop on a rooftop, until it gradually becomes heavy set rain, and then the storm. The rain lasts for hours, or sometimes it’s days, weeks.

In all honesty, it actually feels like it has lasted for years, this affair, the moments where we become one.

But the memories remain, and they ghost over my fingertips and eyelids until I’m no longer me, but the situation itself, and I’m only left gasping for air everytime I remember it all. I’m no longer myself, but this shadow over my head that feels too much.

Or nothing at all.

And I’m left tossing and turning, trying to feel a thing while it caresses my soul and holds me hostage in the cell of my bed, wishing I’d find out how to revert it all, since it becomes too much, too many emotions I’m no longer capable of swallowing, just like pills you cannot take when your throat’s too dry from all the screaming.

Except there’s no screaming.

There’s no crying or tears, because my desert heart has decided to never let the water run for reasons unknown.

It takes me down the rabbit hole, straight to wonderland, except wonderland looks too much like my house, and the rabbit hole is actually my door, and I’m finally realizing I’m stuck inside myself, and I’m held hostage by my own mind.

The starved flower, damaged motherboard, handicapped crutch who decides not to feel a thing anymore. To shut it all off, just like an old ride no one can get in anymore.

Where have all the mechanics gone? Can we find the missing piece?

Or is that missing piece, never been missing at all?

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Wow, this is beautifully written. You have quite the amazing gift with words.

Awww, thank you so much for this compliment, it means a lot :D

I know, right? I keep telling her. She won't believe it.
But I know how it feels when everyone tells you something and you just won't believe it.

@zenasc Keep writing young lady.

Jijiji, I have a hard time thinking what I do is good, but I'm tryingggg. Thanks babe :3

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