It’s The Halves That Halve You in Half

I’ve had a crush on your mind since the moment I thought I figured how to walk through your doors, all marked private. You had gentle manners and were softly spoken and showed me the world in vivid shades like I had never seen it before. I inhaled everything with the greed and thirst of someone who had never been on the bright side of the road before.

All the lights around my memory boxes went off and it seemed like I had lived in darkness my whole life before you switched on the light, and switched on the light, and switched on the light. My eyes were burning, my mind was on fire, and my heart was throwing off sparks in your direction.

“Focus outwards,” you told me, caressing my thigh, and all I could think of was how I liked your strength, your roughness, and your darkness. Next to you I could always be both the lady and the tramp. I never questioned why you wanted me to focus outwards. I just figured you had more to show me, and I was keen to see it all. I only missed the essential.

You came and went in episodes, but there was nothing worth remembering from the times in between. Images of us were the only ones flashing through my mind, all madly beautiful sequences, blurring everything out. There was no showy stuff. Just this vivid and strange life you led me towards, and I was breathing like the world was running out of air.

Chilly autumn evenings, when my favourite sweater’s lining of boldness was nothing compared to your hand. Lattes and limos in square markets they made for lovers like us. Waking up only to dive into daydreams. You, you, you. Day, night, day, night, day, night. August, December, April…

I’d come find you, but I see no signs and no doors. The world is back as it was before you, bland and colourless. I’d hold tight to the memories, but they are starting to slip and blend into the background too. And, hard as I try to remember what I learnt from you, I see nothing in focus when I focus outwards.

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