Chimera.

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   I would tell you that I never wanted to associate this song with you; perhaps I wanted at least that to be mine, fully, unconditionally. I would tell you that I am filled with guilt and disappointment; perhaps that is what I should feel. I would tell you that I am disgusted of your eyes, your voice and your way of treating things. I would tell you all these lies, I would keep you away from me. I would laugh on the idea that it does not worry me; I would laugh on your face and tell you that I do not care. Sometimes it seems so easy to lie but these mentioned above, it’s impossible to say. Harper Lee says that you never understand a person until you climb into his skin and walk around in it. I do not contradict to this theory but walking on her skin; I cannot do. I tried and I failed when I realized that I cannot feed you with the lies I mentioned at the beginning.
     It was a shattering morning until I heard her peaceful voice. The night before, I saw her everywhere. She was entering that pub’s door at every turn of my eye. She had her hair down and then up, she wore black and at some point she wore red. She wore all colours and had all kind of expressions. She walked in every time a woman walked in. At four o’clock in the morning the alcohol’s effect was gone. That door opened again but she wasn’t the one stepping in. I saw a brunette woman, wearing a bright red lipstick and a slim fit pair of trousers. It was then when I realized that she’d never come. I smiled hypocritically and opened my eyes. It was just a nightmare. I was staring at her sleeping next to me and after a few minutes she opened slightly her eyes smiling too. She was biting her lower lip while I was touching her below her waist. How could I lie? She has become a bitter-sweet addiction; a necessary evil.
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#An Intervention. #Fiction#

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Unfinished business. He always was that. This time though it’s different. This time it wouldn’t be right for us to ever be together. We’ve been banned and cursed by Aphrodite and it seems right. We’ve always been impossible and unrealistic. So it ended, quickly and roughly, but it had to.

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My dreams confirm me that I’m a destroyed person, mentally ill, who’s been broken and broken all over again in the last three years. Time messed me up and I’ve become a shaded woman, lost in the emptiness of my soul, not being able to save myself.

            The water running on my skin was one soul with my tears and I felt no difference between them. Everything was the same; the grass was the same; the stars were the same and the light of the day was the same. Only she was different. Every night the moon filled little by little with my dreams till it became whole. Every time that happened, I used to feel his touch but the other day, it died again inside me. Once a month I can feel it on every inch of my body, ripping my heart off my chest and drowning me. The next day I feel nothing. I suffocate from time to time but then I inhale deeply and exhale hard. Two seconds later, I feel nothing again. It’s not difficult once you get used to it; that’s why I can call myself crazy.lf from the curse of the universe. I’ve forgotten the definition of piece as my mind has none and my heart is no longer free. It has been taken hostage in somebody’s hands and drained of blood. It’s steep, dry and dark now. The stiffness makes me hurt people and I don’t deserve any of the love I’m given, if I am given any. I must unconditionally accept it and get used to living in such pain for the rest of my days. I shall never ask to be freed as my conqueror will kill anyone who approaches close by. I have no view of him though. He’s marvelous and fucked up, that I can feel. It’s his mind-blowing smile and those scars on his chest that give me a brief image of him. I can’t see more than that. It’s all dark and shady in there. Time has revealed part of what I see and it seems a long way until I can finally complete the puzzle. I’m scared of who’s hidden behind those curtains as he has every power to finish me off. He owns my spirit and my body without letting me take any of it back. I’ve been tricked to give it all up to him, but when? I have no memory of such thing even if every night I’ve seen all kind of stories developing in my subconscious. Perhaps one of those nights was real, but which one? The heart I have left in me wonders by my mind’s side if that night was a carpet of shiny stars and a bright moon. Was it? It reminds me of the sky being dark green and the ground surprisingly light. The darkness was brighten by the ‘’full queen’’ of the night. Such a magical view! I was feeling upside down, like the world had changed for me and my fucked up man. His face was unseen, and I tried, I really tried to uncover it, to get through him, but I couldn’t. I shall stop my mind from wondering as I’m mistaken. I woke up at five o’ clock in the morning and the dream was gone as he faded away on a dark road and I lost the view forever. With that, I lost him too. Only she remembers him and I’m so jealous of her because she has seen his face. The moon was the only one who had the opportunity to guide his way home, back to his scars. I turned around to the other side, facing my pillow and closed my eyes. Until dawn I dreamed of nothing. Truth is I woke up smiling so I guess it had been all real; I just couldn’t feel him anymore.

            It’s all the same until I break. Until you break. It can happen any time, any minute. I see a tear falling on my notebook, my food or my hand. I lift it up and clean myself up trying to hold it together. I can’t. So I cry. I give up to my conqueror’s possession until I have nothing left in me. Once I’m soaked, I can sleep. I usually dream of nothing but a white tunnel. At least my inner queen doesn’t let me remember any of it. It’s such a relief sometimes and such a pain on rainy days. I’m being reminded of who I am those days and I worship them. I go back to my crib and let silence blur the scene for me. I sit down on my armchair and think of all the staff that keep on torturing me. The light of the candle reflects warmly in my eyes and gives me strength. Once the sun fights away the navy clouds, I’ve already put boundaries to my existence. I’ve already decided how my route shall continue and I follow it up until my next alone session. Time has already been both my friend and my enemy. Truth is I had never had to choose which of the two I want it to be. My human life has no meaning if I don’t accept the way it rolls and my destruction has already come once I felt his hands on me that night. That dream was weirdly realistic, the one and only realistic thing about him. And possible, the one and only possible thing about him. The possession is overwhelming me with emotions I have never met and that’s why I’m afraid of it. I’m so much afraid of what future will bring and all I can beg for is mercy. Mercy for my heart which is unable to last much. I’m not a compatible vessel for his aura and I don’t understand how he can still be inside me, flirting with my veins and feeding from my blood. If only I could exhale and scream that hard that I’d force his exit from my red room of pain. But the question is, do I want to? Am I ready to put these emotions to sleep for eternity or should I infinitely cherish him?