LongingA Story by BexfinchWho can be the mistress of the allusive dream master.A/N: Well haha dang my first story in a while I built this off of some recent dreams and my wishese to escape into my fantasies and how close but so far away my fears desires and realities are. This is an overall allusion to my life... not that I'm an adult that sits in a loft smoking marlboros. That is far off, but sometimes I feel like one, ENJOY
Cigarette smoke curls from the end of crumbling paper dissipating
into the darkness of my apartment. I sit on a bar stool. The cold metal presses
against my thighs reminding me of how damn alive I am, how much pain I'm in
right now.
It's invigorating; pain, in an uncouth, uncut sort of way. It
slices into your chest and attaches strings to your heart, then plays it. It
reminds you that time must go on. That you are not the only entity selfishly
hogging your dream to yourself. Selfishly trying to create what you couldn't
have.
I take another puff sharply inhaling this time making sure my
eyes sting and my lungs burn. I let the lone tear slip down my skin, it's hot
and wet.
"My mother told me it's in our nature to want what we can't
have,"
There is a silence in the room broken by the rustling of sheets.
"I, ugh, I always have been a dreamer though. Forging
bridges, wishing, casting my lots,"
The rustling of clothes and the clearing of a throat grace my
ears.
"Only a fool thinks they can have the world, a gift from
the Gods should never be harnessed by wants,"
I wistfully stare out the window avoiding eyes. I feel the knot building
up in my throat and it takes everything I have not to cry.
Red lipstick stains the top of the filter, contrasting the
starched paper. The city lights amalgamate together and my vision blurs.
"You said you wouldn't cry,"
I tuck a leg underneath me enjoying the extra pressure that
grounds me.
“I’m not crying," I lie, because the tears rolling down my
face are mine.
"You are," he responds nonchalantly.
"Maybe I am," The words come out fast and sharp.
"I warned you this would happen," I nod curtly.
“I just wanted to be close to someone who could help me escape
reality, for a while," the last part comes out quiet.
"Sorry but bliss is short lived,"
He laughed and then was gone.
He had dissipated like my cigarette smoke, leaving me to the
hard realization of reality; hoping he would one day crawl into my bed again.
© 2013 BexfinchAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorBexfinchJacksonville, FLAboutI felt a need to clean up my profile after having it for three years Name:A title a person gave to me before I was consciense Age: Old enough to write Occupation: Learning as much as I can as.. more..Writing
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