You left me with bloody knuckles and a burn in my throat. I knew I couldn’t punch or kick a hole through the walls that trapped you. I couldn’t break you free. But I still wouldn’t stop trying.
It was at the worst point in my life when it rained every day for two weeks straight. I wondered if it was because the earth knew that it had lost something so pure, something that made it more beautiful.
Without your soft eyes and gentle smile here to comfort me, I became inconsolable. The amount of times I messed up with work and school were too many to count. I felt I was starting to let everyone down – and not just myself anymore.
The world was so void of colour; there was no vividness. Nothing was clear anymore. But I wasn’t sure if it ever had been, anyway.
You were supposed to be there when I graduated. You’d smile at me, give me a soft kiss on the cheek and somehow make the sun come out. But nobody came. You were like my family. My only family. And I always secretly hoped we’d be able to start our own one day. I wanted you and me to be the producers of something so much better than what I grew up with, than what my parents gave me.
But after all, I was the devil and you were an angel. A masochistic sort of love.
You knew everything I touched would be ruined. Any chance you had of living a normal, proper life was destroyed the second you allowed me to lay my eyes on you and your velvety skin.
I ignored it for awhile. Actually, I almost forgot the fact that I was only capable of destruction. The way you looked at me made me feel like I might have one day actually been allowed the chance to go to heaven.
I wondered, did the colour red even exist in the sky?
Bloodshed, anger and lust were meant for hell. Nothing that hovered above you could ever be anything bad.
So why did you let me kiss your soft lips on that day where the air smelled of smoke and your subtle vanilla perfume? Was it because you wanted to see what the other side was like? Did every angel secretly crave the taste of poison on their tongues? You made me think up so many questions that I knew I’d never get the answers to.
You had become the drug I was addicted to and I was the bit of freedom you had always wanted.
But being an angel, you were still so frightened. You swore it wasn’t me you feared. But I knew it was. You were afraid of all I was made of. Even freedom can become too much. We all reach our limits. And I realized then, through the dimming twinkle of your eyes, that I could never be anything close to an angel, no matter how hard I might have tried. I could never be anything remotely good. I was taught to destroy everything that threatened my chances of me becoming my strongest self. You ruined the clear path I had made. You made me so weak.
Still, I hoped you didn’t regret me.
Living in the rain should’ve purified me. Why didn’t the ice cold water than ran down my spine cleanse me; why didn’t it rid me of my past?
All that the cold drops of water did was abuse my body and make my heart feel like it had shrivelled up. I felt like a toy that your god was playing with. I must’ve made him mad, must’ve made him sad. He was crying and crying for you. The rain was trying to tell me how horribly I had messed up. I dimmed the light of the sun. Nothing could ever be the same again. I worried I’d never see the daylight again. I’d remain dried up and useless. My power, my strength, my will – all of it had disappeared.
It was because of you. It was because I fell too deep when I was already standing in the deepest pits of hell.