A D.C. Bed

I knew.

I. Knew.

I knew the rules. I knew the consequences.

I knew the lines meant to not cross and the guidelines meant to not betray.

I knew.

I knew the boundaries. I knew the red tape.

I knew the feelings meant to not feel and the thoughts meant to not have.

I knew.

I knew the end. I knew the last line.

I knew the walls meant to not break and the restrictions meant to not loosen.

I knew.

I was going to be a fortress.

I was going to be a god.

I was going to resist every temptation you gave so I could remain whole.

I was going to be rational.

I was going to be sane.

I was going to curb any impulse for fantasy so I could…

But your voice has this way.

Oh.

It has this way of crocheting me into every syllable.

And I know you would be good.

And I know you would be true.

And I know that every thought you think has the capability of intrinsically tying me, binding me, aligning me with you.

And I know I can be moody.

And I know I can be stubborn.

And I know that I don’t always see the light at the end of the tunnel that’s pushing me, coaxing me, nudging me towards…?

And shit, you got me talking in cliches.

But you, my god, you have seen me at my worst. You, my god, you, know my soul.

You.

My god.

You.

You could have turned away, you could have silenced me for good, you could have steamrolled any possibility for a picture perfect imagery of a you and a me.

And yet…

You are tidal.

You are mercurial.

You rise and fall only to rise again.

Your affection drowns me and burns me at the same time.

You ignite me and sweep me away.

I am possible in your fire, I am infinite in your flow.

I am one and the same as these sound waves that call me “baby.”

And yet…

As I crush, I am crushed.

As I fall, I am fallen.

Because I knew that I was gonna be never yours.

3 thoughts on “A D.C. Bed

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