i exsanguinate your vitality as an invocation of my desperate yearning. every stolen breath is the liturgical testament to my unwavering decree: I need you to stay, i need you, i need you.

keep your gaze unaverted, on me, as my hands– like predatory vines, encircle the elegant arc of your throat, siphoning the breath from you as a last act of love.

as you continue to bask in the limelight of your carefully crafted masquerade. a perennial virtuoso in the theater of deceit.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ | LETTER TO THE AETHER |

but you’ve always been good at pretending, always the star of a play; your every feigned lament and orchestrated gesture an ode to self-aggrandizement.

i sift through the wreckage of our disillusionment and bear the scars of your performance —

you have always been consummate in the artifice, donning façades with the ease of a seasoned thespian.

even as the ruins of your betrayal fester around us, you pirouette on the debris of shattered truth like a masterful charlatan in your own tragicomedy.

all flesh rots and dead doves do not eat.

was i not worthy of your respect or patience?

𓅆

you are the incandescent enigma I have long venerated, a sublime cataclysm whose presence transmutes my soul into disarray.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ i’ve coveted you with an ardor so profound it defies the quotidian, summoning a labyrinthine passion that dances at the threshold of my ruin.

But I’ll keep my messages open. I miss you and god knows it.

Like I get it and all, from your perspective of things you were ghosted but in mine, so was I.

That’s really how they saw me?