Theme: Like a Moth to A Flame

She’s walking by, I know. For you’re hearing me out. Listening for her every move, hearing me out. Swelling with pride as the incessant swarm of admirers looks on. At her. In awe. At you. In hatred. Jealousy. Just the way I do at her. She’s perfect. Perfect like you. You’re still hearing me out. Your heart thuds, it is but bewitched. The gulp you camouflage with a cough? She heard it. You, you hear me. Just me.
You love me; I’m your best friend in the world you say. You’re still hearing you say. I love you too. Heard that, didn’t you?

Shadows swirl all around us. Colors a blur, faces contorted. A low buzz tickles the senses. Bees, they hum. Shapes descend. And melt. Into you. You. Yes, you. My savior. The light that makes me see. The flowers that make me smell. The mild breeze that makes me feel. The taste of you I savor. One look from you is the life in me. You’re not looking at me now, though, are you? Your eyes search hers as you hear me out. Her perfect eyes. The fathoms deep depths you delve in lost to the world. But still hearing. Me. Out. You see the love in her eyes, you said. The angst, you said. The innocence, the purity, the passion. Yes. All that. I did, too. The lies, the deception, the fear. Of the charm shattering. Of the clouds clearing. Of you seeing. Really seeing. You see her soul. I can’t. Darkness shrouds my eyes. Or maybe it’s just the void.

I hear your heart, it’s calm now. And you’re still hearing me out. Though your eyes seek hers. Still. Forever.
There is that cloud again. Your light I see no more. It’s hers now, she’s next to you. Oh she’s perfect. Smoother than Marble, that skin. Darker than Graphite that heart. Diamonds for eyes. Charcoal for a soul. She’s on the phone. At every word you huff. But it’s me you hear, don’t you?

Her irises fall on mine, they turn away. Scorched. For the antonym of perfect they behold. Perfect nose turned way up. The smoke bothers it. She teases, she tempts, she giggles, she moans. But you’re still hearing me out.
The perfect faces turn to each other. The perfect lips but one. The plunger withdraws, then back in. I hear the flushing sound. Harmony, you emanate. But you, you’re still hearing me.

Hearing me say I need you. Hear the desperation in my voice. Hear about the car crash. Hear I’m alone now. In this big, bad, world. Hear me cry. For love. For them. For you.

Hand on hand. Moan after moan. Grope after grope. Giggle after giggle. You hear me out.
Tear after tear.
You’re still hearing me out.
As I walk away, you hear every footstep.
Hear my thoughts, hear my soul.
I run, you know that. You hear that, too.
The door slammed. Heard that.
The weird swishy noises. Those, too.
The scrape of wood on marble. Nothing escapes you.
The shuffle. Ears still pricked.
I exhale. You hear it.
For the last time ever.
But you know that, you were hearing me out.
But did you ever listen?


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