Nadira

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I’ve been touched and it wasn’t by his hands.
“Who are you?” was the first thing he asked. Who am I? I am that dented food can no one picks up from the shop shelf…overlooked, neglected, unwanted. But it’s fine, they can all chase after the can that resembles the million others that are lined behind it. It’s fine, if it means I stand a chance of being picked up by you.
“Someone that’s been wanting to be seen” I replied softly and he gave a smile that navigated its way quickly to my heart. He was knocking on the gates of the walls I built inside; that’s how he touched me.
He saw parts of me that eyes couldn’t see. I was his flower and I unfolded for him. Oh the sweet raging desires…he would say “hurry it up babe, andale andale”. But we messed it up along the way.
It’s 4am. The cold sheets press against my tender skin; my hairs awakened. I can’t sleep; I saw him today for the first time in years. It wasn’t until I laid eyes on him I remembered what a heartbeat felt like. The bittersweet pains that came from loving him. I’ve got just one heart in this body, how about you show it some mercy?
“How are you?” He asked. How am I? You just resurrected a being that was never dead. Baby forget what we said to each other years ago, and come to me. l’ll be your private island, an escape…whatever you wish. I’m that scar you have that’ll never leave. Let’s go for a walk down easy street, where we could be reborn.
“I’m no longer sure” I bite my lip and see his jaw clench.
“Nadira…”
I meet his gaze.
“Come heal me”
The first time, he came knocking at the gates. This time around, he’s knocked the whole thing down. 6 senses? Nah make it seven…I’ve found my heaven.

 

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