of cold lonely nights

there she lies on her back, her eyes towards the ceiling. the plastic stars glow ever so brightly tonight, as though a dozen fairies dancing floats above her very head. a mockery and taunting of how she feels, the complete and utter opposite. she turns to her side, but find the tears slipping. willing them to stop, she turns, lies again on her back. she lays still, her muffled sobs silenced, distracted by the sounds of the howling wind in the distance and pitter patter of the rain on window. now joining the fairies were shadows of dark, cast eerily against the stark of her walls. the rustling fan minding itself caresses her already sensitively cold skin.

the familiar pang now crushes her heart, as though someone as a joke, held her heart within their hands, ever so literally, squeezed, making her aware as reality hits home. she shoved thoughts of him out of her head, but being as stubborn as they were, he swam in the midst of her thoughts. bittersweet was intensified ten thousand times fold. as much as she caved, spooning to her every thought, each like a vortex, pulling her into the unknown, she never felt so alive; yet each thought singed her deep, toxic kisses on her skin untainted, seeping poison into her very veins, left her gasping, the air wasnt there.

overwhelmed, she couldnt think, thoughts within her muddled. she was on the brink of insanity. how could something so sweet and good be so wrong and bad? surely she could control it, surely she could stop it. but oh how she wanted it so, be real she voiced, be real she called out. in response, the hand reached for her neck so tender, trailing ever so gently against her goosebumped skin. mmmm, was all she could muster, her body weak with desire. she felt constricted at her throat, no words could she speak, the hand had now her heart and throat. she gasped for air, she begged, she kicked and screamed but to no avail, silence was all she heard. the image of him fading, she reached out to him as he to her, but fingers werent reaching, too far was he from her.

she woke up sat straight choking, drenched in sweat so cold. her heart was pounding, pulse pulsating, gasped her way for air. she squinted against her surroundings, found the fairies glow so soft and hiding and them eerie shadows werent so demeaning. but of her heart, the pang still stung, her hands were phantom, of his they were missing. her arms still shivered, she laid back down and went back to bed, to clouds of pink and memories of old, when times were good and he was sweet. yes, fantasy though hurt, reality was far worse.

goodnight.