frost

You know what brings out the worst in me? You. You bring out the worst in me. With your practicalities and pride and assumptions, taking actions for granted and feelings as nonexistent. The past is never an object to you, only the future. Because it's untouchable and unmuddled. I know it.

And ill timing. ILL TIMING. Multiplies it over and makes the room freeze, one particle at a time, at once tangible and sparse like fairy dust in beloved children's tales, soon crystallizing into ice sheets between you and me and him and her, except in places where figures blur and bleed into each other. Through the silvery white film, I can't tell.

The freeze creeps over and once again I am the girl under the blue and orange covers. Nineteen and nine, if there was a difference in the decade past, at the moment I am blind to it. Tracing my hand's silhouette against the brightly colored stripes, I am caught again in exhausted words and wasted silence.

The cold comes toward me and I can't figure out whether the ice is getting thicker or thinner, but I know the faint orange glow between us is not enough.

It never is.

**

dressing up and stripping away

I need my day to have something to say for itself, you know, in case other days come up and bully it because honestly, right now, it's a skimpy little thing, possessing nothing of content or even any shiny parts it can show off.

I really don't want to spend any of my time on you anymore. Today, someone you don't know called you a jerk, and that effectively jerked me back to reality, as in, this particular dimension of being, my niche...it has no traces of you in it.

So as firmly as I can, I say goodbye to the you in my mind, the only you that I have left of me.

**

magnets

why is it that the less we know about a person, the more we are obsessed with them?

the less I know about you, the more able I am able to create, it's like you handed over the reins to my imagination, which runs freely in hypernatural sketches

conversely, nothing inspires me when I know you inside and out, and am with you always. our times hold none of my (poetic) interest

it's sad that no one can occupy both my worlds. i suppose idealizing one so human would be paradoxical, impossible, yet I can't help but wish you'd come along

**

judgement day

after I retell my past, I think, maybe you would have something to say

that's normal, you offer

it's not what I expected at all

what else do you have to say? I ask

nothing, what do you want me to say?

I don't know, if it were me, I'd have some comments

"I realize people" you say simply

and that was all.

I think "I understand people" would be the natural translation here, but somehow "realize" seems right. What is it that you not only understand, but realize? Is it your performer's potential?

**