The Dark

I feel like I'm here in the dark and you're somewhere bright and airy with my light switch...but you won't light up my room.

Why won't you light up my room?

I don't like the dark. I fumble my way around trying to paint a mental picture of what might be going on here, when in reality I can never really have any clue if I'm right. I just assume. Assumptions are the only thing that keep this heart going, because they allow me to explore more of what I thinks going on in your mind.

I'm basically breaking my own heart.

I start at one assumption and talk myself round in a circle till I create my own realisation. Usually a negative one.  What else can it be? By the time 360 degrees has occurred you still have not enlightened me. Still.

That's not love is it? That's not love.

I detest these assumptions I'm making...however, I am bound by my heart to create these visions of what I think my hands can feel. Ever searching, ever feeling, my eyes cannot provide assistance. It's tough, man.

I saw the switch within your grasp before the lights went out. You continually perch on the precipice of illuminating my world, teasing my senses with loved filled wordery, before bailing and taking the answers with you. You've done this before but you deny a pattern.

I'm only still here because the universe has granted me a last chance saloon at a previous lesson. I passed with flying colours by the way. The words I failed to utter first time round fell out of my mouth and rendered you silent for quite some time. You surfaced to reciprocate momentarily, then left and took the light with you.

I'm here in the dark did I mention that? I don't like the dark. You still have the switch it your hand although you don't utilise it. I'm in the dark.

I don't deserve this.

Much Love, EL x