My own delusion
You have already forgotten me.
I lie amidst the dust gathering in the back of your brain, already full of things you don’t need.
While I remember you when I’m happy; it is to ground myself, to remind me that since you’ve forgotten me there’s no reason to be happy. No reason to rejoice over small things and to hope for great ones.
I need to remind myself to know again that you have so many other people you could choose and will, and that I will never be one of them.
That you will never know and never feel the same love you that burned in me for so long like a lick of fire in dark deep forest. And even if you did, you wouldn’t care.
That all you care about are your drugs and your highs and all your people who you find worthy enough to love you.
My messages are left for days unread, my enthusiasm is crushed and my heart is soaked dry of affection and feeling.
You make my entire being feel like a barren land that has nothing to offer but dirt and the undisturbed flashing hot sun; draining you of all you are and rendering you useless.
Your sweet words are thorns and I keep cutting myself on them, trying so desperately to get to the rose the love; the same well that whells inside of me.
But I can never find it, you’ve put up so many mazes so many walls that are meant to never let me in.
Why give me anything when I was just a short memory that means nothing to you, sitting there with the dust bunnies and the age old achievements you chose to leave behind?
Why make me believe I could, somehow get out of there and into your heart?
But now, I forget you exist too, your memory is fading and I wish I could say I didn’t care my love, but my heart aches with every mention of you.
With every second I put into figuring it all out, my lungs are falling apart and turning into ashes; the stale air fills my mind. They mourn my time with you, when I still felt alive. When my lungs didn’t burn with jealousy and longing.
I hope you message me back soon, that you continue this conversation that I always start, that you take my hopes even higher so I can feel the air in my lungs turn fresh and my mind returns to its high horse.
— Giaa-Marie Raj
