✧ Gunshot : Lykee Li ✧
♬

I am a gift.
A curse.
I am a dark thought that haunts the crevices of the mind and the very thing to brighten a day.
I am the reason behind a smile and the cause to the lack of one.
I am what gets you out of bed in the morning and the source as to why you wanna crawl up in it and die.
I am grace ... hah.. And a disgrace.
I am the good and the bad.
I am the best and worst thing to ever happen...

"Who am I?"

That's a tricky question and a vast one. Complexed even to the stupid.
My answer?
That's subject of opinion and we're all entitled to one of those... However, the short version. It all boils down to perception, hah... in my opinion.

Sadly, I cannot piss and fart miracles, so I can only provide my view on that hot topic. It's the only one I know for fact and the only one that matters, after all; if you know who are, you have nothing to prove. But the question remains; would anyone care to listen? Or be brave enough to understand?

"I am no one..."
...important.

"I am someone..."
...significant.
But most of all;

"I am nobody..."
...without those who believe in me but more so, those who don't...

I owe it to them all as I wouldn't be who I am right now on this night, if I hadn't have dared walked where I have walked and continue to do so...

One thing I do strive myself in is proving people wrong. Fun fact: I. Freaking. Love. It. Dare I say; I get a kick out of it. It's my aphrodisiac so to speak. I always seem to do so effortlessly without even trying. It's in my blood, my nature. It's set in my ways. Welded, as apparently I am stubborn and to this spot... So I can safely say it turns me on, not sexually mind you, that would be weird... okie, I have to admit that is pretty racy.. and for the record; I've never had any complaints in that department...

I've always been that person everyone loves to hate and hates to love and the funny part is; I'm not even at my peak. I'm just getting warmed up... I have never fully engulfed anyone in my flames, as no one can handle the heat. However, I came close... I serve to protect others and myself so it seems... or am I just a chicken shit? Who knows and meh, who cares, really?!

Everyone sees what they wanna see. Some see the good, others... not so much, meh... whatever floats their boat. It doesn't bother me in the long run. I am my own validation, I take the good with the bad and vice versa. I leave the talking to everyone else; after all; everyone's a critic.

As for me, I am wild and rough like canyons hacked from diamond; stunning with jagged edges. Yet free like oceans; endless and graceful, but can drown you in an instance. I am not for the faint-hearted and I am yet to meet "my match". When we do, an inferno of sparks will fly and humanity will be down on its knees, praying for the hell to freeze over.

"HAH! ... You'll be screaming out for god.. hehehehhh!" Hysterical at my own rotten joke.

"If I don't laugh, I'll cry..." My eyes going full circle as I finish that sentence.

"Settle down, woman for crying out loud!"Verbally slapping some form of sense into myself.

Collecting my shit as I "breathe" deeply and calmly. In and out in a peaceful, rhythmic beat, not hasty and blunt as though inhaling shit. Allowing each one to wash over my mind, body and soul... I can't help but ask myself;

"... Do I even possess a soul?"

Shutting my eyes off to my question, my current surroundings and circumstances, I focus on my breathing again. Allowing myself to feel each one individually deep within me as I find method in the madness once again...

"You don't take yourself seriously, so how exactly do you expect others to do so, huh?"

Pondering my response to my own question, I take a step back. Still with my head held high looking out at the skyline through the mass of foliage and twisted branches. Staring the night dead in the eye while I continue to face my own internal darkness.

"Talking out loud to yourself is a sign of insanity... you know that, right?"

Yet... it continues to save me from my arch-nemesis... myself.

Fixating on the beauty found only in the darkness, the constellations are merely a silhouette of the evening sky while accenting the real star of the show. It appears every sundown without fail... Guess it's as consistent as yours truly...

There's something enchanting about the moon. I never used to really understand it... but after spending three whole years here, I can truly say I do. It's unexplainable. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all, but I will say; it does not need to be in its fullest form for its presence to be a blessing... No wonder folklore believe wolves howl at it...

But for now, here I stand, like I do every year actually on this night. As cool as the calm before the storm and as patient as the spider waiting for its prey to hit the web it's spun. Dead still, like my cold, cruel heart. The wind flows through my hair and my being in the same way as I make movements; chilled and breezy. It blows around me, surrounding my solitary space as it drifts the grey clouds above me. Shooting my head up to the sky as though to acknowledge its presence.

"Rain's coming..." In a tender whisper as though in that special someone's ear.

"Hah! That part of me is long gone... forgotten even."

A splash of wet rolls down my face before I can linger any further on that thought. My forefinger automatically goes into investigation mode to find the source. Tracing my dewy skin that covers my cheek, the droplet rolls over my fingertip without bursting, nestling itself safely and soundly upon and within it. My fingertip can only do half the job in identifying the drip that runs a mockery on my face, of course my eyes have to see it for themselves...

The tip of my finger continues to cradle the translucent sphere as it brings it in for a closer look. Guarding it from the elements that are now taking place around and within me, my index comes to a halt right under my pretty, little nose. I look down upon the tear like a snob and my eyes instantly burn a flooded vision of foolishness.

A stab of lightning strikes my brain, setting the contents of my skull ablaze. Waves crushing my mind that drown it while rescuing it, leaving it singed. It continues to battle with the torrent that swamps my mangled mind, as though wrestling with a maniac; unpredictability life threatening.

I never go down without a fight and that's certainly not about to change tonight, after all; I love a challenge. Propelling like a tornado at sea above the darkness that currently inhabits my cranium, I refuse to submit to it. I am not anyone's or anything's doormat. The dark forces caving in on my numbskull, determined to dethrone me from my own sanctuary. The audacity... I'm the queen of this empire... I make my stand, armed and born ready to kick its arse. The darkness continues to crawl into the crevices of my temple, whispering and yelling at the top of its nonexistent lungs;

What makes you think you're worthy of love?

"Everyone is worthy of that." Righteously submitting that statement as my internal self picks up a sword.

You're a fool... As if any man would ever truly love you.

"HAH! More fool you! Any man wouldn't suffice. He'd have to be one hell of a man to keep up with the likes of yours truly and for petite moi to be remotely interested." Sassiness riddles my statement and my smirk as breezily as the hair flick that accompanies it. Meanwhile, my inner self stances casually on guard.

No love of your own. And you're not getting any younger.
Like mother, like daughter...
And don't forget your aunt... they're both alone, loveless.
It runs in the family, remember?

"Ah, but you forget; I'm not them... dust settles, queens don't. I'd rather be alone than be with just anyone for the sake of it..." My tone lifting in coy assertiveness, while subconsciously I glide and graze my blade against my demon, locking eyes with it.

"Been there, done that, got the t-shirt and burnt it." I drone on almost bored of this debate.

And what about the others? The so-called "friends" that care about you?
Look where they are now.
Nowhere and doing better in life without you. You're alone.

"They're there when it matters; that's what matters and I am never alone in my own company." Pacing my wording confidently; while mentally I'm advancing my footing ready to swing.

And what about him?

A flaming harpoon flies through my chest, shattering my rib cage, rupturing my heart. My heart's valves chaotically swaying about like a fretting puppet. Splattering blood as it wildly wails out for help, while I just stand there... drowning in it internally. My heart shoots thorough and out the back of my head like a bullet blowing both my brain and my heart to smithereens, finishing me off nicely...

Dropping to my knees and bowing my head for the darkness's mercy...

"I have no counter for that right now, admittedly." Muttering as though disarmed.

I have to admit, that one tends to catch me off guard but I have suffered far worse from the likes of my demons. I spread my hands in the soil, feeling each gritty grain between and within the flesh of my fingertips as I put the weight back onto and into my feet. I gradually rise, dusting the dirt off my knees, pushing my shoulders back, holding my head high once more. Determination written all over my smug face while my core winces in pain. I'm bruised but not battered. I look up at the night sky again as if I'm looking for guidance or searching for a sign.

"Bring it on. I'm still standing." My voice carrying as much guile as the words.

I take a step forward, searching around my person like I'm looking for an answer before deciding to take it in my stride and move forward. Tracing the trunks of the trees with my hand for support like you would a banister. I step deeper into the woods, weak and fatigue stricken me as though injured from battle. The satisfying sound of debris crunching and twigs snapping under the pressure of my little feet as I do. The faint aroma of petrichor filling my nostrils and lungs providing an inch of comfort to my wounded heart. Meanwhile, my memory bank is skimming through memories like pages in a book in a desperate attempt to unearth an answer to the question stabbing me;

Why isn't he here?

Another blow... But I'm a determined little bugger. I keep persevering forward, each footing harder and heavier yet easier and softer combined as though pushing a boulder through a series of valleys and hills. My breathing short and shallow yet flowing freely as I hold my chest to ensure I'm still breathing... and guess what? I am. I smirk to myself and through the pain, silently gloating at my fiends.

My eyes shift their attention to other matters, while my hell hounds still pant their hot breath heavily down my neck. Focusing solely on a majestically vast oak tree, which stands gracefully above all the other trees that form a ring around it. They appear to be looking up to the oak in awe and wonderment rather than down in bitterness and resentment. The oak's crown appears to be throwing its head back laughing hysterically at something the clouds whispered. Having the time of its life in the night sky, chilling out with the stars and kicking back with the moon, teasing the sun to put its stupid hat on.

Despite the high and mighty appearance of the oak, there is something so humbly grounding about it as though it has never forgotten its roots... hah, if you pardon the pun... odd how this oak reminds me of myself somehow...

The moonlight illuminates differently here compared to the rest of the dense forest. The light is flowing through the strong and liberating branches of the oak and the praising arms of its wooded supporters as though high-fiving them all individually. It filters through each of its pleasantly green leaves, highlighting the hues of violet within their veins. Capturing the specks of woodland dust dance and twirl in the evening air, it's almost ethereal, but then I remember;

"There are no such things as fairy tales..."

... especially for the likes of you.

My internal beast is taking great pleasure in hearing me admit that out loud as it claws up my ribcage like a cat up a fence. Licking its lips deliciously and lapping up my torture. It's what it needs to survive so I'm sure it's more than grateful for the titbit. My brain slaps the back of my head like you would a dumb arse and realisation soaks through me;

"Of course you'd bring me here... rub it in much?" I huff abruptly while my eyes roll hard.

Regardless, my stupid footsies proceed in gracile strides, almost tiptoeing impishly toward the heart of the oak. With each supple step my heart urges me on, while my mind falls apart and tries to steer me away. My soul meanwhile, is nowhere to be found as though to have an out-of-body experience to witness this upcoming calamity. I know full well what once stood here but I have zero expectation of it remaining...

The trunk of the oak just a stone throw away, my hand automatically reaches out as though to hold a hand and gushes to touch it. My fingertips following both the rough and smooth edges of the bark before they stumble upon what they have been searching for; his and my initials. The engraving worn as though they've stood the test of time; how unlike him and I... but faded due to the exposure from the elements...

"Hah, how fitting." Finding humour in the irony.

My heart fires through my head and launches backwards like a cannonball on a bungee rope; the result; complete and utter devastation. My eyes unwillingly close allowing the memories to drift in and wash me away to the shore of a place I have long forgotten... The sensation of a cool tide washing over my warm body on a scorching summer's day somewhere on an exotic sandy coastline... I feel right at home here, which is the biggest giveaway. I don't need to open my heart to know what's playing in my head.

I'm drifting like a leaf on the surface of a serene river, floating in long and mighty waves, yet gentle and tender to the touch. It's as though my physical weight and those of my burdens are insignificant to the being carrying me. It's hold has altered; briefly skin-on-skin and it causes a flaming hot shiver to ripple down my spine. Of course, my automatic response is to bury my face into it... I despise myself. My ear pressed up to its torso, listening intently to the beat of its ticker, which compliments its gracious footfalls... My breathing matching it's tempo. The cosiness leaks out from my gut and onto my lips, expanding into a small satisfied smile that penetrates my cheeks... Oh, how I suffer and wish for the contentment it brings...

I'm in agreement with my intuition telling me I won't like what my mind's eye is showing me but unfortunately, I am my own inquisitiveness's bitch. My subconscious's peepers shift through my thick, elongated lashes only to find exactly what I don't wanna see, let alone find myself in: the haven of his arms.

I fidget in protest but to my dismay, his arms and hands have a hold on me, not allowing any room for me to slip. Meanwhile my eyes cannot help but timidly scan the tower of his stature. Scrolling their way up, knowing full well what they'll be taking in next. The very thing I don't want to be reminded of right now but at the same time would give anything to share a gaze with again in the flesh; his eyes.

"You are safe in my arms."

Those words... I am not prepared to hear them after all this time nor in my nightmarish dreams, then I remember something of great importance...; They're just words.

My teeth gnash and grit before letting loose a anguish growl. A kick swiftly follows, flaring up my leg like a detonating dynamite fuse. My foot explodes with a boot to his chin and out of his arms, returning to the forest floor once more. Fanning away the emotional haze with my hand as though the mist is truly there, I walk away from the heart of the oak.

"Nice try." Killing it with a smile, I turn to face my demon once more.

"I like my try, kitten..." A masculine purr fills my ear canals.

I swivel on the spot and my eyes jolt up to find my demon has a trick up it's sleeve... this is a new tactic admittedly... kudos... bringing company along for the ride in the shape of a ghost that I had long suppressed. Interesting... Desperate times call for desperate measures, I suppose...

Speaking of time... Time is a funny thing... they say it's the healer due to its power of never pausing for anyone or anything. An unstoppable force to be reckoned with. You'd be fighting a losing battle if you were ever stupid enough to step foot in the ring with it. As with every minute your wretched heart ticks and circulates blood through your meaningless vessel, you slowly forget faces, names, events, details and places. However, there's always a catch... some things never leave despite how often you show them the door.

They leave a mark, one you never asked for, forever slashed upon the flesh of your soul like carvings into wood. In my experience; those are the very things that agonise your very existence and rot you to the core. Ripping your own heart, spline and soul out, tearing them apart with your own bare hands while you hack and slice at them repeatedly for an eternity, would be far easier to live with than those said marks... I wouldn't wish that on anyone. Why? As here I stand eons on. You do the math.

In this moment, hearing and seeing him, is that very mark I would much rather it eroded and decayed into a bloody pulp. The very thing that harbours the existence of this torture that eats at my heart like a cancer, boiling it into a broth and all at the same time; kills it.

When in fact; it's a reminder that a "nasty scar" and a "gorging wound" are the least of your concerns that people can inflict. There's strength and beauty in those... "Beautiful blemishes" on the other hand... stay with you for a lifetime... Some might ask how? It's quite simple really;

They become part of you, your character, your heart, your spirit and dare I say; your soul. They are fundamentally everything that make you and break you. The very foundation your present self is unintentionally built upon. Your roots... where it all began... and trust me, they never wither. All the while our friend and enemy "time" proceeds to tick over, doing what he does best; moving forward... passing us by. Eventually, in time those "marks" result in making your heart rancid to the pit of its bottomless stomach in sheer, hollow agony but your gentle soul remaining gratefully hopeful, which is a complicated concoction to swallow and digest.

However, despite discovering all of the above, I have unintentionally held onto these moments and hopes oh so dearly for all these years believing maybe, just maybe, I would be proved wrong like I do others every, single day but it hasn't got me anywhere. The hard truth is, all this time has only proved yours truly to be right, which bores me as I tend to be. I always knew it was the case but some small part of me just wanted to be proved wrong but the fact still remains; it's never meant for me. If it was, love would have won the war and saved the day by now. It doesn't exist for the likes of me. As they say; it's time to face the music and dance...

"No one likes a try hard, love." I sneer right back.

The heavens open like a leaking flood gate. Dripping as though the drops are in sync with the penny gradually dropping in my head. With each passing second, speck and blink of an eye, the rain descends heavier until it pours like the scream bubbling inside me. However, externally I simply stand here. Haunted by my darksome and my ghost with my own internal struggles in the mix. What a palaver I must say so myself.

My eyes lock on them both as my demon licks his lips and my ghost smirks rubbing his hands together, while they watch me fall apart but in this moment the rain is my unwanted saviour. The bellow inside me enjoying the ride of the waves from the depths of my torture, like a cowboy on a kicking buck. The tide rising rapidly like water up a pipe, it bursts at the rim of my tonsils and explodes as sheer, maliciously painful laughter.

The cackle doesn't seize or subside as it continues to cause havoc like a bull in a china shop not taking any hostages, just destroying the enemy, which in this scenario is; every ounce of me. It dances on the borderline of screaming, which is a thin line to cross if you ask me. Each note more painful than the last as I bow over and lean back from the reluctant need for air and the anguish that wrecks me every living second.

"And I can't take it back!" I confess, between the fits of hysteria as I die from the laughter.

The chortle perishes just like I have inside and how I wish my heart's desire would, but the rain doesn't stop. It persists to spew, washing over me, wiping my own slate clean. My hands proceed to smooth through my soaking wet locks while my eyes close, tilting my head up to the sky as though showering in the heaven's tears. Meanwhile, my ghost and demon continue to watch in confusion and glee as I attempt to rip at myself and collect what remains of me.

My hands continue to glide down my elegant neck, brushing over my collarbone and petite shoulders. Tracing my alluring outline before reaching the climax of my hips. My right hand can't control itself as it seductively slips down the front my figure-hugging jeans, whilst my left behaves above the belt. My fingertips slide their way down the inside of my right inner thigh, briefly grazing the edge of my panties as though to tease before going in deeper. I ensure to caress the soft flesh belonging to my thigh before I get my hands on what they went searching for. My fingers coil around solid iciness of carbon steel like a serpent, giving it a little squeeze to check it was now within my clutches. My hand abruptly whips out from the inside of my jeans as quickly as arms-men react to the word; "Fire!".

My right now lethally armed, while my left dives into the inside pocket of my leather mac. My fingertips pluck the cartridge stashed away for this very instance. Snapping the ammo into place inside the now loaded pistol, I begin to gently spank the gun against my left palm repeatedly like a woman with a fetish. My hips slowly swing to each sensual beat as I step toward my darksome and phantom. My heart meanwhile pumps to the sound of its own drum while it pulsates to the same rhythm of the gun.

My feet come to a standstill and I look over my lashes to take in the sight of both my demon and my ghost. I chuckle to myself seeing them terrified for once. Their chins may as well be on the floor while I continue to toy with their fear for my amusement. My right hand with a firm grip on the gun I carry, sometimes a sword just doesn't cut it...

I bring the gun to my lips and my tongue takes it's sweet time to slip it's way along the length of the pistol, taking in every inch while my sights stay fixed on them both. The tip of my tongue giving the end of the pistol a gentle flick, finishing it off with bang by pausing. Still engaging with eye contact as I continue to smirk, I raise the gun to my temple before delivering my final blow.

"I have tricks of my own, darlings." A sinister grin grows.

My demon and my phantom now at my mercy, surrendering their nonexistent souls by putting their hands up while pleading the words "don't do it". My darksome on the brink of pure anger and distress as it rips itself apart. Displaying brief snaps of pain descending from it's own selfish desires to stay alive at the price of my own as it flickers like a glitch to a static state but all the while its eyes remaining dead. Meanwhile, I certainly have wiped the smile off the ghost's face but it to be replaced with that of despair. His eyes mirror the surface of a pond; watery yet stagnant. His face now pale as though the blood has been drained from his body, which pains me to see. I never want to be the reason behind that... but he clearly has the wrong end of the stick...

"Pfft... don't think so highly of yourselves... the gun isn't intended for me..."

Lowering the gun I cock it before aiming. Locking in on the targets, I shift the pistol to point at both my demon and my ghost. My index finger curls around the trigger, happy to make itself at home, I breathe... then aim...

My index pulls the trigger before my heart makes it change it's mind. The shots fire without so much as a second thought. My demon grabs my ghost, clinging to him as though he is a shield and that it's life depends on it. The bullets penetrate the heart of him and the darksome doesn't give a shit as it proudly dangles his carcass like a prize before laughing at the sight at him, tossing him to one side. His transparent body limp and lifeless as it hits the forest floor, while my heart beckons his name but that doesn't stop me proceeding to cease fire...

Fuelled by pure anger at myself, I run at the demon, firing several rounds while my heart stabs itself over and over again. The pain doesn't stop. My heart continues to stick the dagger in itself, twisting and yanking it. He is dead and my heart is rehearsing frigging Juliet, the cretin. I scream in a fit of ferocious laughter while my eyes are streaming due to my heart's idiocy and my own but more so because... my dream just died... I regret pulling the trigger.

My hurried, remorseful footfalls reach him and that of my demon but before I can check his corpse for a faint sign of life, both entities disintegrate into nothing more than smoke. Shattering like glass, I crack.

"Ohh Crap!"
Laughter erupting from the ashes of my heart.
"I really loved you bad!"

Spinning while firing bullets carelessly in the air turning completely senile. Losing my mind like I had everything. Growing trigger happy shooting at the dead of night, hoping my bullets would ricochet off the stars resulting in their downfall bringing night down with it; murdering the moon. I'd love to see how that would pan out in court. So missy, you're guilty of murdering the night... how do you plead? ...Guilty, your honour. What can I say? I have a dark sense of humour, what of it? Hah... night... dark. Get it?

The joke at my expense eases the ingest of that bitter pill as it roughly travels down my oesophagus but not without getting lodged halfway.

"And I'll never have you back..." I admit in a choking whisper.

I gulp it down hard as though slamming on brakes before it can reach full throttle again. I shut off my eyes and take in breath. Holding it in like I am now holding it together before releasing it. A stillness flows through me and the forest so it seems as we both stand motionless once again. The foliage beneath and above me soothly flows with the nurturing breeze, mirroring each breath I take taming my rampaging heart.

My eyes shoot open and my face clamps down on it's cool unreadable demeanour once more. My hand still baring the pistol, I unclip the empty ammo cartridge releasing it from causing more harm than good before liberatingly flinging it deep into woods. Tucking my gun out of sight but never out of mind as I slip it into the safety of my inside pocket. I yank at the cold flesh of my leather mac, fixing it to sit pretty on my shoulders and dust the emotional dirt off them, literally; pulling myself together again.

"That's quite enough of that for one year." Asserting rational discipline upon my emotional heart, I take charge.

With one final tug of my leather mac, I bid good night to the Oak and to the night with a content nod before turning on the heels of my knee high boots. Retracing my steps, I leave the clearing quietly without a shadow of a doubt finding my way back. My hand tenderly shifting overhanging branches away not to swipe me or others, as my feet stride in confidence in their's and my analogy to continue moving forward in this life. I find myself at the start once more as I stroll within the thick of woodland. Hand in hand with the dead of night at my side, I am not alone, as both the external and my internal darkness skip harmoniously roguish. Smiling to myself I ask an important question...

Who am I?
"Stella Laura-Grace Damesworth."
and who is she?
"I know who I am and my worth, that's all that matters. Nothing and no one validates yours truly."
And what about him? Why isn't he here?

I will not go to the war with this again tonight and resurrect the demon I have slayed. It would love that and I will not give it the satisfaction. Under pressure as time is of the essence, the question pricks like barbs digging into the tissue of my heart and my membrane. But the answer is so simple, yet it was everything but that to process... however, I accepted it many moons ago...

"...Because he chooses not to be... meh, his loss."

My hand flicks my autumnal ombré waves at the end of processing that statement and in the same gesture, that smirk I've grown to love blossoms upon my rose nude lips.

Just like that I am back where this night began both physically and emotionally. Just pass the thicket of holly bushes laced with red berries and beech trees lies the cross road and my ticket out of this forest until the next time. The moon beaming as though proud of my accomplishments this evening while the stars silently show me the way, I tread carefully to ensure I don't fall over the embedded curled roots and trip over myself.

Taking my time, my feet continue to step lightly as though not to disturb the forest's slumber until I reach the edge of holly bushes and neighbouring beeches. I pause to take one final look at the beauty night brings and proceed to step out of the wilderness. Fate once again has better ideas of allowing me uncomplicated passage, oh that would be far too easy wouldn't it... Instead it believes this is the perfect opportunity to throw yet another test at me...

The crack of a breaking twig gives me away, ringing throughout the atmosphere and bouncing off the wood's natural walls, turning on sound from beyond its boundaries. A faint manufactured resonate of an engine ticking over and clicking of hazards tickles my eardrums.

Once again curiosity gets the best of me which I want to slap but I still decide it would be wise to take a closer look, idiot... Do I ever learn? I spot my motorbike hidden behind a solitary bush next to a tree with entangled branches. The bough reaching out as though to embrace the hand of their companion on the opposite side of the road, while the other avoids it due to some lovers tiff. I creep my way over to it, keeping low as I do.

An audible male voice I've never heard before whispers along the road side whilst I take cover behind a tree. I peer around the trunk and set my sights on the scene unfolding in front of me...

It's probably a drug deal meet or a body dump. Ideal location for it after all, secluded, no passer-by's... ooooh the scandal! Where's the popcorn when you need it, huh?!

A tall man with sandy waves puts a jacket on the shoulders of a broad, stocky dude who appears to have hair as black as this evening's sky and soggy from this evening's forecast.

"Looks like someone got caught out in the rain." A hush snigger in the shape of a whisper caresses the evening air.

They have a nonverbal exchange before the dark haired bloke is ushered into the front passenger seat of the jet BMW. He ducks his head and I catch a glimpse of his face as quick as the door slams shut...

"Interesting..."

Each syllable as full of intrigue as the word commonly suggests while my eyes match the inquisition.

"What brings you to my neck of the woods, I wonder..."

My ponder cut short with another smack of a door closing which snaps my eyes to focus on the movements of the curly haired stranger again, who now sits in the drivers seat. The amber glow dies as the hazards halt to be replaced with the shrieking of window wipers and the low beat of a musical hum. Momentarily the vehicle jolts as though it's been kicked from the inside out before a snarl penetrates the glass and the music falls flat. The car remains stationary before revving into life, pulling away from the roadside.

The BMW's headlights brush over me before driving its way down the trail. The vehicle prompting the memory taking place in my head; me letting him go while he stepped away... never to come back... The sore spot in the chamber of my heart begins to heavily throb.

"Forgive me, little one. It was never my intention..."

Recognising that oh-so-familiar ache, I place my hand over my heart as though to wrap a blanket around it. Comforting that damn heart of mine, while I still somehow manage not to become my current emotion; saudade.

"It becomes numbingly distant eventually. I promise."

Shooting my head up when the car flashes back into my head, I trace the road once more. Hurriedly skimming from left to right, top to bottom, afraid to lose sight of it like I have him. Relief smacking me and my heart back into place when my eyes clap upon the car once more. My heart can't help but jump for joy and up my throat before I coolly swallow it back down to where it belongs. The chill of comfort washing through me like the rain is drenching my skin but the reality still stands; he's not here and never will be. The BM is making it soundly out of the woods now, leaving me and our place behind in its tracks which doesn't pain me to see.

"I hope you make it out of the woods one day fella." My lips flourishing into a gentle simper.

My eyes don't leave the car's side, just like I obviously hadn't him... When the car is nothing more than a dot, a glorious smirk burns my face that represents the duration between; the sighting of the car and its departure. In a flick, I grab my trusty metal steed and hop on, tapping the kickstand like you would a horse to trot. Following the road into the night and the car, so it seems...

Dedicated to the following:
✧ a man who stayed
✧ a wonder boy
✧ the lad who came back
✧ my guy who will never be...
but more importantly;
✧ Myself.

I would not have the experience to write
any of these words.
None of this would exist without any of you.
Thank you for being truly you,
even if at times it burned.
I'm grateful to you all for reminding yours truly of my worth and also;
Love never mutually exists & no one has the same heart.