she stretched on the bed and reached with her long leg and placed her foot on his desk before him on the notebook he was writing in
“Wow,” she said. “Your place is so small, like a box of matches. And so empty. So lonely. Why don’t you ever have anyone over? I never see or hear you talking to people. Why must you be like that?”
“I don’t like people,” he said
"Why?"
“Don’t ask silly questions. For the same reason I don’t like hotdogs. I just don’t like them.”
“Do you like me?” she asked
“I don’t know,” he said
“Would you like me to leave?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know a lot of things, boy. I came to you because… I wanted to have a place from which I’d be missed if I left. I thought the heart of someone as lonely as you would be that special place for me. Turns out you’re not lonely at all. You’re just alone.”
“I guess,” he said
She removed her foot from his notebook and turned facing the wall and began to sob
“Hey, don’t be like that,” he said. “I might not be missing you if you go, but…”
“But what!?”
“Well, you still remain my least detestable hallucination. I like your legs, with all their ten joints. I like your crimson eyes, all eight of them. Your fangs, your horns, the scaled wings, everything. I really think you’re…”
“Yeah? You think I’m what?”
“You’re… what I need in my life right now. So don’t leave just yet, okay?”
“Hah! I knew you love me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Shut up, you don’t know it yet. But you love me. Come to bed, you silly oaf! Let’s sleep and dream together. Something colorful, vibrant. A spider web full of butterflies. Shaking in the wind. Come.”
He closed his notebook and went to bed
(▔▀ ‿ ▀ )ლ ▂▂⌇ Check out my new book filled with dark poetry -- REALITY CHECK
ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ Find me on INSTAGRAM
(っ╹◡╹)っ Find me on TIKTOK
(つ✧ω✧)つ Check out my BOOKS
It's the little things that tell
the difference
but many times there's no observer
to notice them
Little things like
ignoring all the beer in the fridge
and going straight for the cupboard
where the tea bags
stood untouched for years
Chamomile
Caramel
Pear
A fine combination
He took out one little bag
and filled the kettle with water
and placed it on the electric stove
and looked out the window
while waiting for the steam to whistle
Rainy weather outside
Overcast weather inside, in his heart
Also he had no smokes left
and no one to smoke them with
so he took the lighter from inside his
pocket and lit it
against the glass of the window
and said to the flame, "You said
you'd leave. But you
never left. It was a lie. Else why do
I feel you closer now than when your
body stood right next to mine? Doesn't
make sense. You never left…"
The glass started to blacken around
the flame and he retreated it
"You never left," he said. "You are so close
now and had taken over so much
of my mind that I started doing
the things
you loved and I hated."
The kettle whistled
behind him
He turned around.
"You never left…"
Daydreaming as a profession 