Backwards and Slightly Incoherent

A Story by b.platte

I don't know what to call this.

I see Heaven through your eyes and hell through your smile. Fire and brimstone left to burn anyone left in your wake. With a steady a voice and shaking palm I pull you into a vice grip and send my promises into your pulse, knowing they’ll be in your blood now. I’ll never see you any differently, and I’ll never see anyone the same. If empty promises were a one way ticket to hell with a flash of your smile then I’d be floating in the clouds right now. If i had to suffer through an eternity of pain and suffering, suffocating beneath and with in the caves of the darkest pits of hell just to see that smile one last time, baby I’d lie my heart away. A sacrifice I’d never think twice about, but lucky for me you smile with your eyes and I’m blinked away into soft blue skies.

Kill me now and it do it slowly, smother me with the butterfly kisses I know you protect so dearly. Hold me tight or let me float away because I’m afraid I’d choke on one more day. May the gods find pity for a helpless mortal caught between reality and expectation. Hold me close and whisper my hopes, so that for an instant I’ll get lost in them & believe they’re true. Babe, I don’t want to be found when I’m with you.

A stranger through a window masked by time is all I see in a dark reflection. Looking through and past and under and over the reality sets in and I beg for something more. A glimpse gets me through a single day but a lifetime of possibilities lets a soul wonder into pliable ‘some day’ notions. I’m going back to the beginning and repeating what was said until the cycle’s broken with a steady heart and the beginning is actually the start.

If sense were not making and making were not sense then what would we be left with but past and present tense. The seams are littered with gaps that hardly ever get noticed, but a life of looking for something more could break a thread or two.