a night of coveted mirages…

a night of coveted mirages,
your native tongue between the sheets 

parce mots anglais perdent leurs valeur

and my pain rouses as lights flicker out
the echo firing up every synapse in my body
eyes wide open only to see the world forlorn

no deplorable desire in my dejected demur
no looseness in my muted speech
only ashes of the phoenix
you couldn’t believe in

fini  

23. he knows. he just doesn’t believe it

nearly a week now since me and X broke up and ironically, i think it hurt me more than him.
i could barely speak about it. i still barely can. and people’s reaction didn’t help. they always knew it wasn’t meant to be, even if i was fooling myself otherwise. they always waited for that day when i’d say enough is enough.

well, they didn’t have to wait all that long.

but i’m glad. i’m glad that at last, at long last, i’ve been true to myself and let him go.
no, not even let him go, made him go.
i had to do it right, boy? i think so.

and so, now, you’ve got me. not in the way you want me, but you’ve got me still. 
but u’re unlucky too, because i’ve promised myself that no, i shan’t rush into another cage, having just broken out of one. and why should i? you make a case and i might just agree to belive those slivers of silver lies.
but freedom’s a solid bar of gold and i lavish that feedom of choice, that freedom of speech, that ability to do things without thinking about someone else.

and yet i still think of him when i do things.
what would X say? how would he feel? what is he doing now? 
yet still i know, i needed to let him go. and he still wants me back. not so much now, but the first three days were hell: he’d make me feel like i was the most atrocious creature to have lived on planet Earth.
i know i’ll never take him back though. i’ve told him this. he knows.

he just doesn’t believe it.