When a life is over,
the one you were living for,
where do you go?
I see you, in your familiar vessel, sleeping soundly. I trace the waves of your dark hair, the bump on your nose, the peaks of your cheekbones. Everything is exactly as it should be, perfect and unmoving like a wax figure. Almost too perfect, I was nearly doubting what I knew to be true. You're an imposter, wearing the flesh of a man who lit my world on fire-- you killed him. When I left the room, he was warm and breathing and when I came back he was gone.You, the imposter, in his place. Just like that. The world was shattering around us but you lie still. Was he even here, had I dreamt it?
I see him now, in my mind's eye, waving gently like two friends waving goodbye through a car window. I feel the whisper of a kiss upon my forehead, so soft and swift like the wings of a moth. But when I awake, there is no one there.
I want to go back to that time, when I'd pretend to stay asleep as his lips pressed lightly on my face, and open my eyes. Taking in his silhouette above me, I'd beg, there's an imposter who will wear your skin-- and his eyes will be your eyes, and his voice will be your voice! Please don't go.
The love is in dark trouble!
The love is starting to die,
right now--
we are in the process of it.
The empty process of it.
I'm grieving who I thought you were, who I desperately wanted you to be. I was so certain our future was in plain sight before us, that our dreams were close to absolute. Nothing has changed in this home but emptiness permeates every corner.
I would have been whoever you wanted me to be. I would have dyed my hair or changed my clothes. I would have changed my body, my voice, anything. But it was never enough for you.
I can't compete with these paragons of women wrapped beautifully in cellophane, with their breasts and hips and smiles all bundled up nicely beneath the shiny surface. You know, the ones you can see but will never touch. I want to be them so bad, to feel what it's like being your secret object of desire. I want to feel what it's like to be the thing you threw it all away for.
