Begging even though you don’t know why

Our hands trace over the solid covers of a book

How many have read it, in all of time?

Declared it a timeless tell of tragedy 

From when the earth was still flat

To the times where we're far from that

Yet as eagerly as you open it

My hands fall to the sides

With your smile quivering in doubt before me

I stare

Permit the time, the seconds to pass without a spoken word

For you to feel, not to open your mouth and let it speak for the thousands of mouths you've heard

Whether from the screen or the live stage of this continuous play

No, for this time, no matter how short or long, I'm not going to say the next written line

To give birth to the next scene of this act

I can't, I can't do it anymore 

But you don't even glance at the pages

They know you, not the other way around 

You stare at the book, as just written in the next line

Yet, you don't even see the white pages below the visible book

The little infinite script of words 

I can't, I can't read from it

To know the shadow behind all of this that we've said and is yet to be 

To feel its claws digging deep into my mind

Of hurried air and disposal of the most vital things 

Who you can sleep with

Who deserves this or that

To be the one to say all of this, to be this and this and this... cacophony of words

That never changes a thing

To think, oh, think so ever without a stop

For the paper of the script to be burnt, I dream

Each night, I dream of you to see it, to glance

I see you, standing over it, over it with tears but a smile

Then we're here

As you silently open the book

The classic of a ruined love

Of descriptions of hugging warm flesh against your own

To murmur something in people's ears

To giggle and to juggle with treason and plot

But it's dripping with the lines, no, the themes of those pages

After so long, can't I not jump at their sight?

To run away, to beg, please don't make me go through this

Don't turn me into a dying stone of a cold mask

But you read the first sentence

With a smile of honey and divine 

As passionate as the script lets you be

But when your eyes turn to mine

Hungry for those themes

Needing, of their stage partner to finish their next line

To carry on with the story under the hidden lights of shadows 

But I stand, jump to my feet

Your eyes squint with confusion 

Far far away with the curses and questions 

Ready to shoot dead whatever the moment was

I step away, one foot in front of the other 

No words, how can I give into that?

How can I say, please, see the script?

Author's Note

I had quite an emotional experience while writing this, almost as a release. It might not resonate with others, and that's perfectly okay. However, I'd like to encourage you to feel it even if not reading it for the metaphors.