Whisky Words: Project (12)

This is Submission TWELVE of The Whiskey Words. The Whiskey Words is a writing project (and a giveaway). The winner will be announced on 1st of April.


You fixed me with the price of ruining yourself

Do you remember the first thing I told you when you said that you loved me?

“You’re mistaken.”

With “I love you too” written all over my tongue and all over my lips and all over my eyelids, I said “you’re mistaken”. You kept repeating “I love you” and I kept repeating “you’re mistaken”.

But every letter, every word that came out of your mouth was like a pink cloud of cotton candy, and every syllable you uttered reached me decorated in a bed of interwoven wild flowers.

And I gave in. You know how much I love flowers. Of course I gave in.

But little did you know that I only know how to kiss with my teeth and draw blood from your tongue. Little did you know that every part of me that you touch will be set ablaze in flames. I will burn, and I’ll burn you along. Little did you know that I cry tears of blood and when you try to wipe my eyes, you’ll be the one who ends up wounded.

But soon enough you realized all of this. All of me.

Everything changed then. Dark and grey and heavy clouds loomed over what once were your blue-skied-eyes, and with every blink, the sky above our heads ripped apart and it bled tears.

Tears that poured down on me. Tears that, when kissed by my burnt skin, turned into smoke and extinguished every part of me that was burning. Tears that drenched me. My hair and my eyelashes. I was finally crying tears and not blood. Tears that trickled down my face, my forehead, my nose, and settled down on my lips. My lips were full of moisture, full of life.

I was fixed and I wanted to kiss you with those lips.

But when I opened my eyes, you had already backed away. You were already far too gone.

Maybe,
You should have listened to me when I said “you’re mistaken”.

Because now all that’s left of us is you repeating
“I was mistaken”.
And
Me repeating
“I love you”.

You fixed me with the price of ruining yourself.

– Aayushma Manandhar (blog)

 

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