there is an elusive beauty in the Dark things we indulge in. but i have never been able to decide, is there something beautiful lurking underneath, or is it the Darkness that tricks our eyes into seeing a beautiful light?
or maybe it is any moment spent with you that becomes eternally Beautiful.
an act that would make any normal person nervous. an act that would horrify a mother. an act that would fascinate any curious teenager. an act that you turn into the mundane. you took out the glass from the picture of us smiling at your bedside. you took the straw from a drink half full. you reached into my purse, and you put everything neatly in order, pretty little things all Lined up.
deep blue eyes shining with mischief and eagerness all at once, you give the offering to me first. i am hesitant. but your smile is assuring.
i sacrifice my sobriety to you, the god of my serenity.
my sinuses burn and ache, but jesus christ, how i love the way it hurts. the bitter taste, the watery eyes, the inability to breathe… it’s all part of the ritual. soon, very soon, the fog seeps in. first behind my eyes (Your Brown Eyes, my love) then rising and thickening to engulf all my senses. it takes away my sight, it becomes a chore to keep my eyes open to look at you. it takes away what i smell, i don’t even try to breathe. it takes away my taste, and leaves only it’s sour kiss. it takes away what i hear, drowning all the white noise. it takes away all feeling, i become completely and oh so fucking blissfully numb… numb except for your warm touch, fingertips softly stroking my cheeks and lips grazing against my temple. you hold me close, and i wished that i could feel more of your being close to mine…
you lean forward, and step up to the altar. i am struggling to sit up. your sacrificial staff is the straw anxiously dancing between your fingers. you raise your staff and with two quick motions and a loud sucking sound, you end the ritual that we both began. i am struggling to keep my eyes open.
i watched you as as you slumped backwards, heavy lidded
and said to me in a sigh, “hello darkness, my old friend…”
(i feel pretentious now for thinking that was cliche. i feel like a bitch because strangely, you were right. it is the Darkness, baby. it’s the Darkness in all of us.)
by now reality has dwindled into a transparent ghost, lurking somewhere, yes, somewhere but we didn’t give a fuck where. The Only Thing That Is Real Is Me And You. your hands tentatively explore my torso, looking for a place that wasn’t quite numb yet. the way your fingertips lovingly touch my skin, setting me aflame and breaking through every sensation, it pulls me into a place i never want to come out of. your lips brush against mine, and you breathe your essence down into my throat.
the next thing i remember, you are lifting me. i press my head into your chest and remember what it is like to be a child again. you carry me into the kitchen and you set me on the counter. i am barely coherent, with my eyes half closed but you shush me with the most tender of kisses. with your hands coddling my waist, i wrap my bare legs around your hips and pull you in deeper.
time ceases to have any kind of objection towards us. we are wrapped in each other, kissing and feeling and soaking in each other’s warmth and i couldn’t tell you how many times you told me you loved me. over and over. and every time meant even more. reality kept slipping away, the deeper we fell into each other….
when i awoke, it was 5:15am. you were asleep in my arms, head pressed into my bosom. you were drooling onto my shirt. i was still propped up on the counter, you were sleeping standing up. i smiled. i love you so fucking much. and i love the Darkness as well.