I’ve been looking for you for so long, my love, and I’m sorry if I can’t see you even if
(when)
you stand right in front of me
because my eyes have been sewn shut so long ago
I cannot remember how to open them anymore, even when the wire that held them
lid to lid
shuttered close
has melted away.
I still only see galaxies painted on the inside of my eyelids
but somewhere between the stars, I once saw a comet tail of your smile
and I’ve been looking for it again ever since;
I’m afraid if I open my eyes I might never get to see it again.
so I stand here,
eyes closed, face to the sky,
I stare right into the hearts of burning stars
as I try to find what makes them burn-
I’m not sure if it might not be you.
I mean, I’m not a dying star but I have iron in my veins and doesn’t that mean the same thing if you have been setting my insides on fire over and over again every time your absence dampens it?
so that must mean you exist, right, that somewhere between these swirls of light and color and dark, you really do walk,
tightrope the threads of time between now to then,
that you live, you breathe, you smile and laugh
that it is your warmth that travels through to me,
right across this vacuum of space that swells up
between my fingers,
my ribs,
my spine-
between the empty spaces on my bed that have your name across them.
it all must only mean that you exist, that you’re on your way to me right now,
that fate is weaving around our threads until we will be stories that won’t be told apart anymore,
so I stand here, eyes wide open but not, and ask
who can blame me for forgetting how to open my eyes and see, when I’m so caught up in remembering pieces of you I know from before,
from when our atoms came together for a brief moment before they were ripped apart again;
even Zeus feared what our love could do to this world.
Image taken from: Tumblr
Musings of An Insomniac 