have we lost ourselves? [ToraxSaga, SagaxTora] [Oneshot]
Sometimes I wish all of these if’s and’s but’s could permeate from this chest of mine, tangled in worries and fears, created solidly in front of you and I and all of the world to see. I just don’t know what to say anymore. I don’t know how to reach you. I can’t get the words in a chokehold, anchor them to my tongue, shut off the use of my parched throat and spew them out. My lips are sewn shut with half-hearted smiles and a burning, aching, hollow expanding in my stomach and possibly, perhaps in this abused heart of mine. How do you relay thoughts? How do you open a vessel to another human being of your dreams? Why is life so difficult? Why does black licorice taste so horrid and why can’t you notice the way I feel?
I’m convinced that I’m a canvas for you to paint upon. To splatter with all of your problems, all of you worries yet I am never given the time of day to share what I so desperately need to say due to my own superficial, frustrating, teeth-gnashing fears of rejection. The day where I finally do decide to say something you’ll be gone. You’ll have disappeared like everyone else and I’ll be left sitting on a lonely sidewalk wondering why I let this sort of thing happen again. Why I let this complication control MY LIFE and fuck if I know what else.
My sanity runs away with the wind rushing through my ears and I ponder silently if all was for naught. I dislike everything about you from the fragrant smell of your hair, the way you dress, how you move your lips, why you saunter when you walk, to the manner in which your voice bubbles deep from your throat, that radiating charisma that I can’t uphold nor understand and your extreme love for wide open spaces. Yet if you were to even look at me for more than a moment you would clearly see through my wavering gaze that I’m lying and something close to screaming.
You are everything I wish for when I’m lying awake on the carpeted floors, leaning on painted walls for support because I feel like breaking. My life feels ridiculous. What am I doing besides breathing anymore? Am I wasting away, decaying my once (or even at all) metallic shield, rusting like the ancient bicycles in my backyard shed? Can I not even think singularly, as one separate identity?
I miss you. Even though you’ve never left and I seem to see you every fucking day. Why did we all become strangers in our own skin? When did we let comical things, problems that don’t even directly affect us, do so? Have we all just given up? Have I? I don’t remember the last time we talked together and laughed like we truly meant it. Like we were truly talking about something important or even non-exsistant but that’s wrong because that’s how you make me feel.
I am a rock. A solid mass of everything around me, within me, beside me, on top of me and even beneath me. I want to fall into the deepest depths of the ocean and never resurface. Fall until I hit the bottom but since I’m a solid mass, heavy, weighted with more than the world on my shoulders, I’ll plunge into the earth, reach its core, become the most intelligent and possibly troubled and reckless rock the earth had ever had the pleasure of knowing, even for a few short minutes, and I would slice through the rest of its thick mass and fall fall fall fall fall out the other end and into the universe, floating without that unbearable weight anymore.
And you. You will stay pristine, flawless and unmoving. You will glance in my fading direction and my mind tells me that you will walk with that gait of yours and move onto a new scene, a new area, or possibly the same scene and the same area we both knew and nothing will have changed. But my heart tells me otherwise and I can’t help but wonder why.
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Last night I was searching for my inspiration and it was hiding beneath beautiful prompt imagery at rheakurokawa 's journal. Though I didn't have time to write anything out until tonight. It was the picture that inspired me first but I guess you could match this with any pairing you'd like. It's not one way or the other. Read it ToraxSaga if that's how you picture it or SagaxTora if it tickles your fancy.
This is my first anything in around a year. These picture prompts might save me from my block.
[if any of the fic doesn't make sense, blame it on my intermixed experiences. I enjoy the way this sounds and damn. I'm proud of this.]