literature

if irony was a color.

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Tornment's avatar
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Literature Text

at first there was a boy who had chocolate eyes hidden behind two rectangular pieces of glass.
and he would lead me through fields covered with snow when i couldn't sleep and hold my icy hands which couldn't warm up.
and then he tells me he loves me and that is okay.
and then i fall in love with him and that is okay.

snows melted and the fireplace went silent.
one evening under the shower of raindrops, he tells me he is leaving.
i lower my eyes and fixate them on a nail i'd broken while trying to wrap a present for him just right.
and that is okay.
if i ask him why, he tells me i'm hurting him.
my mind shouts that it's wrong, but on the outside, that is just okay.

and then there is a boy who wraps his hand around my shoulders and lets me rest my head on his.
he makes my coffee with more cocoa because i don't like coffee but am too tired.
and he knows i love it when he holds my wrists tight until the blood in my hands gets slow.
and he knows i don't love him.
but he says that it's okay.

what he doesn't know is that the present is still under my bed, wrapped in that shiny blue paper because i couldn't find another one because i was in a hurry to give it.
he also doesn't know that the names roland and susan remind me of someone else.
he doesn't know about my insomnia.
he doesn't know that at night i lie awake, watching him sleep and wondering why i'm destroying him. and thinking of someone else.
he doesn't know things that he did.
but what he doesn't know can't hurt him, and that is okay.

he stays with me for more than just one season.
he stays even when the snow melts away.
but one morning he comes to me and says ''i'm leaving''.
and i say ''okay.''
''i'm sorry.''
''okay.''
he asks: ''don't you want to know why?''
''okay'', i shrug.
''because even while you're always around me, you aren't mine.''
i remain silent for a while and then say ''okay'' again.
he walks up to me and grasps my neck like he sometimes does.
it hurts and makes my eyes teary and i love it.
''i'm squeezing you this hard because i'm afraid that if you could talk right now, your vocal chords would cry for someone else.''
but that is okay, okay, okay.
he takes his suitcases and leaves. i tell him ''goodbye''.
my eyes scream apologies and he just says: ''it's okay.''
and ''don't worry about it.''
and ''take care.''
and ''i love you.''
and ''but you don't care.''
and ''but that's okay.''

i lighted the fireplace in the middle of the summer.
i felt raindrops on my face and my hands were icy again. and i felt the pressure of hands on my wrists and on my neck and the taste of my cocoa-coffee and the look of that chocolate eyes on me.
but all of that is now far away and is okay.
and i realise how much we hurt each other but we're going to hurt and be hurt again and that is okay.
and that if i had the courage to tell him that rainy day that it wasn't okay, none of this would be okay now.
but i loved him far too much to hurt him again by telling that, so it's all okay in the end.

(the truth is that i never understood how i was hurting you. but it's all okay now.)
full title: if irony was a color, i'd dye my hair with it so that people understand what ''okay'' means.

-

sometimes you can't avoid hurting yourself without hurting others.

i guess i always cared more about other people than about myself.

(and no, it's not okay.)





EDIT: (12.10.12.) i ALWAYS get so surprised when i see that of all of my writing, people liked this the most! even though i don't feel the same about it; anyway, it's old. so old and so bad in a way. but i'll let it stick around.
© 2009 - 2024 Tornment
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MadisonHelen's avatar
I haven't read this in a long time, but I definitely am crying now. Too dangerously beautiful.