Time slips through my outstretched hand, and I try to grasp at its tail, but those lines are just wisps of smoke, and they roll over my fingers, kissing my knuckles, tickling the scars on my wrists, spiraling up and around my neck, filling my ears with the sound of my own beating heart as I struggle with every breath to let loose those 3 words I’ve never told this lonely soul… even here, at the end of all things, I can’t greet my reflection with any kindness. This is my last chance to say something, to do something that matters, and I’m going to waste it. In this space between what I was and what I can never be, I’ll leave behind these borrowed dreams, the reflection I wish I could have seen.
It doesn’t matter now.
Nothing matters now.
All I ever needed was a dark room and this blanket of loneliness. So of course I hated you, the part of me that dared to dream. You rushed into my world, arrogant in your assumption that we deserve to be loved. All you ever managed to do was hold me down while I slowly suffocated in your delusion of hope. Times up. It’s time to go. No goodbyes are needed between a demon and his shadow.
That little light from your lampshade 