The Flaky Derelict

Of masks, monsters and demons caged in my head.

Mendacious Circumlocution : Part II

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Yesterday, not the literal one,  I have finally discovered the feeling of a touch when I ran my rough and rugged hand along the skeletal heavens covered the most tender of skin, also dubbed as “Her fingers”.

Suddenly we were not there, where we did not want to be, or I was not there, I was on the calmer, greener and prettier side of the fence, where only she knows my past and who I really am, where only she recognizes my presence and the sorrow that I embody, where only she gets to comfortably rest her head on my burdened shoulders, where I get to ignore all matters of life and the living and tend to her melancholic and unmasked eyes, and where I can control my lucid dreaming to embrace her lips until I become the songs, until I’m an imperfect piece in perfect peace and until time, pain and the scars are no longer.

I am not allowed to dream anymore, even at the climax of my hypothetical euphoria, my palm slithers away from hers to return from the kingdom of fantasies to be alone once more in the quarrelsome lands of the veiled undead.

I return with my mask on, preventing my words from seeping from my head to my mouth and averting my eyes from her pathway to the stars.


PS: I am sorry that the misery I am perceives the beauty you are. The mask remains.



Author: Zeus

I am the grey area, everything by choice and nothingness by choice, wherein everything is possible as it is improbable.

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