Black vines

I’m cold. My body feels it everywhere. Someday, I hope there will be nothing but warmth. I know I am a dreamer. But there is nothing else that keeps me floating above water than the hope, however remote, of being ok. You were supposed to be my blanket. My soul mate. But I am too forgettable to you.

Pains in my chest, filling with the weight of uncertainty as each minute past the hour ticks by. I want to love you and feel loved back. I want to be taken care of and live the fairytale. I want the dream. My body is suffering because I am lost in a dessert with nothing but wind and sand to keep me company. Please don’t have misled me. Please don’t have fooled me. Please don’t crush me. Please don’t lie to me. I am but a delicate flower underneath all of this exterior shell. I crumble at the sight of you. I shatter at the smell of uncertainty and can sense when things are about to go sour.

Make this pain in my heart go away, please. My chest breathes deep, slow and painfully. My hands pressed up against my face, sulking into them, into their comfort—the only warmth I have right now.

Lonesome in a cold, cold dungeon. Lights flickering in the dark studio. Slabs of concrete walls and floors. There is a full moon illuminating the room—even behind the bars that keep me here. My body is rock solid, frigid from the cold. My mind is delirious and confused. Lights flickering. My only sign of hope and faith. The moon could be beautiful; but tonight, it reminds me only of how lonely and distraught I feel. Bright, there is no beauty behind the moon. Only misery.

When will the pain go away?