Addicted to a Certain Lifestyle

Cigarettes burned our time and I smiled when you drove that long knife through my chest. It didn't hurt all that much, yet I pretended to be in real pain and waited until you left with my blood on your hands. And then the silence came. The windows shattered twice, I laughed once and you became my infinity. Searching for a remedy to ease the gratefulness, I came across the grace I had abandoned ages ago when you came into my life hard and fast. The consequences were now to be laughed at; so I laughed again. A few pills to ease the pain of “you”. A few words to cease to exist. Then I remembered how I confused your vitamin pills with my own tragedy and how all hell broke loose. My insides froze with the memory of your dead words exploding in the room, of the leftovers raining on my soul and of the taste of your chapped “Sorry”. I pleaded as walls closed on me with all their might. But what use was it when there was a hole in my chest, growing open minute by minute? Synapses grew into a certain pattern, resembling your face a bit too much and I felt the infestation give in to your power. Riding the tide into freezing ends of both worlds, symmetrical almost but now. Seas of hatred, rocky boats and delirium enforced.

Next morning I woke up on your couch and did a shot of remembrance. Rush. Fast and sweet. My resistance dripped slowly to the back of my throat and I swallowed just like I did to you. A melody from the other room, soft and calm. It tasted like chocolate; so I walked across the dying hall to find out what it was for real. For real, heh, funny.

There sat your silhouette, fingers on the keys moving gently. Fearing it would vanish if I got any closer, I slowly slid down on the floor with my back against the cold wall and sat there with my head against my knees. I was afraid to look; you know that feeling you get when you know something is there and it's going to hurt you if you look. But somehow I dared to take a peek and then it was white shock. Your silhouette was clearer now, almost tangible, and was so inviting. Its fingers were still sliding across the keyboard, no sudden or rough movements. It was very charming and gentle. Chocolate melted in my mouth and terror took over when I figured it was how you – the real you- played this game. Like the piano. Gentle. Loving yet with hints of savage lust. Breathing deep before the first note. I closed my eyes in an attempt to block the torrent of cobalt shine in my mind and sat there, just rocking back and forth to disintegrate into the environment. I hadn't even noticed that your silhouette had disappeared and all I was left with was a punctured heart.

Someone had to get hurt after all.

I was in fact too ashamed and scared to dive deep down and analyze. I knew that Tori Amos had said one had to go to the deepest point and open the wounds. Then the cleansing could begin. Even so, the first step was the hardest part. Getting past the fear. Would it be fine if I got past the point where the fear of admitting sat ever-so-comfortably? Would it be the start of something really beautiful but painted as something ugly and fucked up? Had I opened the wounds real wide, those ugly wounds, would it become something sweet? Like peace, perhaps. But I knew I would steer clear of the pain.

It felt safer to pretend. 

It doesn't hurt me.

That's what I told myself.

I don't want to hurt you.

You said, with the worried frown upon your face.

Pathetic little lies – especially when you knew that you were bloody well hurting me. “If only” is a funny word. Blah blah blah... useless crap. Floating about above reality. 

I'm okay. 

No, I wasn't. I knew I wasn't. It could seem that I was doing great and all, but it was the inside that mattered and from where I stood and watched you walk away, my insides seemed to be torn into fucking million pieces.

I waited for the interlude and broke away because that was the only way I could escape from the chains. Bound at feet, hands and heart. What did you expect my goodbye to be like? Dreaming of other worlds that never existed in anywhere but in the little sounds from a piano in some other room, I sighed as you threw everything away. Things I worked, hoped and died for. And what was the point again?

Those drops of honey from the jar you left open on the table trickled down the walls of my sanity, forming a puddle of exhaustion on the floor of my soul.

I had never meant for any of this.

#davidarnold #michaelprice