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(This prose poetry is written in first person point-of-view with readers as Cyrene)
Isn’t it lovely, when I thought I found a way out that I hoped if I will make it out of here someday? To know you are fine with the tunes in your melody only make these clouds of acid gather upon me and drop their toxins onto my already-full-of-cracks skin, tearing me and my glass heart and mind made of stone. Please, dear Phainon, show me a little sympathy when you finally find a way to put me down slowly; as no other words of love and affirmation and admiration ever let out of that potty mouth of ours that we, sometimes, unable to stop it. Now, a matter called “time” changes them to logs we may have no use for our sakes — only some kind of gibberish chit-chats despite our growing thread. In the meantime, I wish for both of us to just live our lives as we did despite our last sin acknowledgements. Just a pair, chatting like we used to talk about some matters, and no logs of each other’s vice masters. Tell me: if this is the very page, why do I feel like the story has ended? Do slap me with truth, so I would stop putting my raging envy towards people who seemed to be fine while becoming a pair!
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Thus… Everything has changed. It is no longer enchanted. Good night. I may perish under this land of people’s dead wishes.
Heavily influenced by following tracks:
a. Lovely (Billie Eilish, Khaleed)
b. Let Me Down Slowly (Alec Benjamin)
