It’s these kinds of nights where you’d sit out and cry out the same stars you look at. Your mind soared into the stretches of the sky, among dead leaves and flies. You had hoped for an answer to a question you did not know yet. Perhaps everything was too late for you.
But I stand in the future you wait for.
You learned how to gaze back at the refraction of your lenses. It kept dancing through the thin film of tears, their feet grazing against the grass you hopelessly felt with your toes. “A home away from home,” you thought, clutching your bleeding heart. You understood that no one watched you when you needed to be seen — yet you were seen at your worst, but never heard.
You still stand in the past I visit every now and then.
Much has changed, and you and I are suddenly very different people. You’ve hid everything beneath a million warnings worn like a black sweater. You thought no one would notice, yet every move you’ve made has left a stain. It became hard to deny, and harder to lie. All you wanted was to be taken care of.
But I stand in the future where you chose to wear white.
The colors bled through stitches and creases, ceaselessly forming watercolor streams. Your eyes turned acrylic, shining with the beauty and sadness of varnish. For once, people looked, and you fell in love with being seen. You were an exhibit of the truth no one would question, because they only felt and nothing more.
You chose to be the muse you hated, and I chose to be your painter.
I still remember how the light traced the edge of your skin. Subtle moonlight kissed the parts of you that you were taught to never love. You’ve held hands with the void before, interlocked like constellations drawing out your fate. You believed your fate was a rejection of happiness, so you turned into it.
How does it feel to finally be wrong?
While you cherish mulling over time lost to people lost to time, you’ve convinced that the script you wrote in your head is how life goes. It was an unforgiving story with an unsatisfying cliffhanger. It’s everything you’ve wanted to share.
However, will you forgive me for staying alive?
I sat where you sat, and I felt the same cold embrace you felt. I saw the stars you saw, and closed my eyes the way you did. It must have been incredibly lonely to have the wind wipe your tears when you couldn’t. I would’ve done it for you, love extended in a much needed warm hug.
You know, we would’ve been amazing stargazers together.
It’s just that we happen to be the same person, and I’m sorry for that.