My Ill-Trait!

I nurture it deep down my heart, I don’t narrate its life but I wonder relentlessly. It grows in me... I don’t show it, but it does.

I thought I heard you calling my name, I thought I felt your hands over me but it was nothing more than a wave of my brain… My flesh over me pine for your warmth, like a child for his mother’s embrace… but you failed me, not once or twice but all the time.

 I am ridiculously reluctant to uncover your faults, maybe because I know you have too many, maybe I have become comfortable with how wrong you are and how foolish I am being. I don’t suffer but I have wounds all over me; I am not aware of how I got them… but I have them, they grow little by little and I notice them every day.

You are my bleakness, you are my aching failure, you don’t even acknowledge that know… I have no idea when I let you become my divine bastard.  I would love to hear your heavenly voice but all I hear is your echoed chatter from history.

I want you to lay a hand on me and give me that feeling of a sinful lover, I want you to open my bun and set my hair free, I want you to leave your smell over me for forever but, I ask nothing. Maybe if you’ll see me in this phase of self-indulgence, you will fall for me; but that’s not what I wish for.

You have become a blemish over my soul and I want to get liberated from everything that belongs to you, but I don’t know how… or maybe I just don’t desire to because I am afraid. Afraid of sheer isolation!

There is nothing in my life that is fed by you but I still long for you, I am sick of myself but I am afraid too. I have this feeling that if we’ll meet, everything will be reasonable; but I am scared… scared that you will be a ridiculous soul or a piece of disgust. Maybe that’s why I yearn for you but never meet.

You are nothing, nothing I would die for,

 It’s just I am foolish and you’re lucky!