Letters to Emptiness I

1:15 am, March 30

Another spell. Blackness fogs my sight. Everything is a nauseous blur. I fought it off, hugging myself tight for 48 hrs before succumbing to pills. Now a sweet drowsiness is slowly filling me up. Faintly resonant with the twinkle of your half-forgotten eyes.

Your smile. Your being close. Hints of that old anxiety. That restlessness. Anticipation. I know you are close. I can feel it in the air. Somewhere. I have been seeking an explanation. But even then the miles between us remain the same. Unchanged. Perhaps even expanding with cruel glee.

I have been trying to breathe. Choking on emptiness. Fleeting between the conscious and unconscious. Spiraling inside. Into a light-less void. Blackouts. It is a palpable pain. Tasting of acids. And stale hopes. Another Prometheus. It tears me inside. I love you more than I thought I was capable of loving.

And i will fight this. Emerge a shadow maybe. I don’t care. I don’t have the strength to. Let me float in arms that can hold me tight, save me from dissociating. I am scared. Do you know that? Do you know I am scared?

Sleep- her footsteps echo on the marble. I can smell warmth. And a queerness. Sedated. Sedatives. Why don’t you understand i need you? F***ing more than anything else in this wilderness. Maybe not more than mom. But she is dead. She’s never coming back. Not even in dreams. Not even when I cry. But I am trying. I tell you I am. To leave you safe from this tangle. From me. For your smile.
I need it. Like oxygen. Like the distinct heat of your skin. And drift. Far off in pools of infinity. I must drown and never resurface.

The stars are all liars.