Thursday 11 June 2015

Into The Rabbit's Hole

1-
Let's all agree that I'm fine.
I know that because I still know the few steps to follow to get inhaling done and how to exhale what I breathe.
and if that's because of something then it's because I've never been as breathetakingly in love as I would desire to be.
It's because I never mistaked her scent for air and air for heroine. I never got addicted enough to refuse exhaling her away.
So I'm fine.
My insides are clean.
My organs are in place and I feel like my ripcage is doing a great job keeping my heart intact, and that the rhythm my heart makes is not yet off-beat despite the few trips and skipping it childishly made.
I know that my stomach still functions the right way and that it digests everything between its walls and makes use of it, including the butterflies she sends in me everytime our eyes meet.
see I know that being in love is having cupid piercing your heart with a needle then injecting your own blood through your veins and fooling you into thinking that it's a drug.
See I was told to beware of Cupid. That he's a redneck and asshole and when you stop paying him enough attention he puts his bow and arrow aside, tears off his wings, then strokes his beard.
he shoots you with his shotgun, runs over you with his car which is usually a tractor, or a starship, or a... bloody dinosaur, then buries you in the back of your head and justifies what he did by telling everybody you trespassed on his grounds.
I'm fine.
I still know how to pump my very own blood through my veins,
I manage to keep a distance from things like drugs and conangels like cupid,
So I'm fine.

2-
I lied.
I would love to say that I don't know what it feels to have your inhales and exhales dressing up as suffocation and sighs,
That I do know how to get rid of the sweet hint of decieving words stuck at the tip of your tongue but...

LOVE(a):
is an abyss. You standing on the edge of a cliff with eyelids too tense to drop, feet too held to the ground to drop, a heart beating too fast to stop. A coward who wouldn't take the leap of faith on his own until he
finds a cowardess whose hand soothes him enough into falling in love.

LOVE(b):
Falling in love is exactly like falling in the rabbit's hole from wonderland. It may not be as significant as it is pictured but its rockbottom catches you off guard once you stop believing in its existence, too.

LOVE(c):
There is no joy greater than crashing on rock bottom. Love is starting to mistake pain for pleasure and heartaches for euphoria and blood for wine.
Love is losing your sense of time and you mistake the years you wasted staring blindly into their eyes and waiting on your broken bones to bend for the one second you blinked and broke eye contact.

LOVE(d):
Love is using your bare fingers to scratch the tiny rocks of the walls around you just to build a cozy room in rockbottom because deep down here it feels like home.

LOVE(e):
Love is not blind. Love is a sadistic manipulative sick motherfucker, and that's okay.

LOVE(f):
Because of her.
Everything she says sounds to you like the hint of passion in the sighs of a love poet.
Every imperfection she tries to hide you'll find just as fast enough to have one more reason to be in love with her, and it's not like you need any.
She'll look to you like a metaphor a poet should be proud for coming up with.
She makes love with all the cruelty it beholds and the ugliness it hides between its letters worth a try.
You wouldn't want to go home when she's around because home is not home anymore.
Home is not a place anymore.
Home is where she is.