dexwritesthings

I wanted to explain to you how darkness loves me but I knew you'd tell me that doesn't mean I have to love it back.  I wanted to ask: Is there a logic to these infinite moments, lined up and waiting; t o all this dislocation and how the little noises of a life being lived keep getting written in the past tense? you were supposed to say: If you could change the worst of yourself, which part would you choose to fix? You were supposed to say it just like that, so I could tell you: Everything. I wanted you to ask me why I've been talking in my sleep, to see if you cared enough to take my nightmares and make them yours. I wanted you to know: I had another dream of killing. Of being killed. Of an ominous quiet in that inhuman place where human monsters are made. Just next door, where all your shadows have teeth. I was wishing I could take it back, thinking: If I keep looking down, if I keep holding this breath, if I keep entirely still - he'll never notice I exist