Saturday, 5 October 2013

Potamophobia- The fear of rivers

Inside I am all a blur. They say the best writing is done on a broken heart, but my heart is too broken for my mind to fathom thoughts.

I want to tell you that I love you, that I will paint you a hundred million sunsets. I will pour over ten thousand pages of poetry and highlight every word that reminds me of the colour of your eyes in the sunlight. Let me be relentless in my love for you, let me wear you away like an unyielding river.  Your name is spelt out in every heartbreaking guitar chord I hear.

I feel broken again and again and again.

Something burns white hot in my core, it’s scorching me from the inside out. You have hollowed out my eyes. I want to take your hand and put it over my heart and ask you if you feel me dying. Do you feel me dying? From across a sea, do you feel my breathing slowing? Do you feel me giving up?

You were supposed to love me. And I was supposed to love you. What a letdown love is.

Rivers are flowing from my wrists, from my eyes, from my heart, a billion rivers. How much can a heart endure, I wonder, before the weight of remembering crushes it? Maybe you will forget how my fingers felt when they were laced through yours, maybe you will forget the taste of my lips.


Close your eyes. Do you feel me dying?

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