How far do you stretch mine?
I question everything you do, everything you say; I am always unsure. I can never make up my mind.
I wonder what I am to you. Entertainment? A passing fantasy? A suggestion? Nothing?
I am obviously something.
You cannot take me under your wing all to abandon me.
You were never what I wanted. I wanted flawless liaison. I wanted perfection, but I settled for less. And less satisfies me beyond measure.
You caress me with such contemptible gentleness; your words spitting cold fire while your hands soothe over my doubts like water rinsing an open wound. A painfully painless mesh. So lukewarm that it feels fictitious. That absence of warmth makes me search for it.
It is always the same consecutive pattern. Love, hate, love. But which are you?
A tornado. Storm, peace, storm.
We are a chaos. You are the chaos. And you throw me into it.
I am in the eye of the storm.
That one time you were violent – oh how the pain claws at me. I overstepped my boundaries, and you attacked like a lion awaiting its prey. You ripped me limb from limb. Rid me useless, emotionless; less.
The memory fades back. Laying on my back, pinned down. Unaware but aware. There but not there. Where am I?
Something is not registering correctly. I am somewhere else. I am with you, you are holding me gently, taking it slow. Here I do not feel pain, only happiness.
I come back numb.
You ripped me limb from limb. Rid me useless, emotionless; less. All my brain can do is deny, for my heart takes precedence over my mind.
That moment when you revert back to love, my heart immediately does a 360. No matter how many times I am shut down, no matter what happened, with one motion, my love will kick start.
I am so weak.
I am crazy.
Our hearts are like 2 magnets; your end turns away and mine rushes toward you, but when we are alike, we repel.
But now that you are facing me, pulling me towards you, so I must turn away before I am pushed away.
Oh why do only our opposites attract?
I am a fast car, a musical contraption, a sinner.
My heartstrings are my steering wheels, my instruments, my hope and salvation.
My heartstrings hold me together. Without them, I am nothing.
You are the master of my heartstrings; its sole driver, musician, and savior.
I am but a figurine, controlled by your emotions. You fiddle with my heartstrings, as if they are fascinating toys to play with. You treat me like a puppet and put on a show, with me as the lead. My heart is held on a leash. I am on display for everybody to see. You do as you see fit with me.
Slender fingers plucking at my heartstrings; that is how you make music out of me. My voice mews for you, like a kitten yearning for milk. I’m thirsty for any form of love I can receive; moist, eager kisses; doing things I know will hurt me. Doing things that even God himself can never forgive.
Pale. The stress grips at you. The anxiety discombobulated you. I understand the strain. I understand the inflicted pain; you never meant to hurt me. I will be anything you need me to be, your friend; your keeper.
I will even be your refueling station; my body is your pit stop.
They tell me you are not good for me. A ticking time bomb, an active grenade, my greatest sin. I am always bending backwards for you to ride atop me. But they don’t realize that I will do anything for you. You know I will not listen. I never listen. I need you. You need me. You grip me for support.
Oh, but what a callous grip. Even I have my limits. Your fingers are wrapped around my heartstrings the way you hold thick rope. Your fingers pry at me and spread me apart. The memory fades back. Fingers extended, nails embedded; clawing into my flesh. I cannot identify between pain and pleasure; it all feels the same. It all looks the same; which is why I am constantly falling into your broken arms. You hold me for but a moment, as if you can handle the weight. And it’s always just when I begin to relax that you give way, and I fall through and fall hard. Whenever I fall, I’m always the one who picks myself back up. The damage you did physically cannot compare to the damage you do emotionally. Your touch lingers, seeping into my arteries and making its way to my brain. But my reciprocating thoughts circulate back to my veins, and back to my heart. I am a constant confusion. Hot and cold; back and forth.
I hate you.
No, just kidding.
I love you.
But why did you hurt me?
Do you not love me?
I should just leave.
Why do I stay?
“What does it matter?” You say.
I will probably just come back anyway.
I always do.
And the cycle repeats.
Love, hate, love.
Storm, peace, storm.
This is how you stretch mine.