Then
Because then fighting was an art, one that you pursued actively, giving it your all each time it happened. You picked them out neatly and carefully, chose your moments, planting words in the other persons mouth and then shooting accusing dagger looks when they spilt them out, the confusion in their eyes spurring you on.
Then you fought because you wanted to win and you won. Because you didn't give a shit about the person. You told yourself maintain eye contact, stare hard, dont fumble, sometimes you even practised them prior. Yes, you were sick like that. Twisted in pleasure.
Your spine upright, very aware of the hair standing upright on the back of your neck. Obscene words, each one landing where it hurts.Glee, terrifying glee that accompanied their defeat. You almost never lost a fight. You picked on them more when they finally, in an last attempt, a last resort told you- Why are you like this. I love you.
The disgust in your eyes that someone would use those words to win a fight. Yes you were sick enough to think that there was no other reason they would say that. That they might actually be in love with you, never once crossed your mind. You were so held up in building up the barricades.
They looked to you like wilting flowers. Flowers that were so beautiful but alas grew in places where no one ever visited, they bloomed regularly hoping this time someone would notice the way the suns rays caught their petals, wishing for a photographer to capture the morning dew drip off in a single drop. A beautiful pearl drop. They grew sometimes on the downside of dangerous cliffs. Places where you never see them, unless of course you were on a suicide mission and you were jump off this cliff. And as you went down, you glanced at them. In that moment you wished for your feet to be planted right on earth and not tumbling through air, hurling downwards, spiralling out of control. In that moment you wished you hadn't jumped, you wished you had stuck on and tried harder but the truth is. You did not.
Now
Now you have lost the will to fight.In fact you want to avoid it as much as possible. Because when you hurt him, you end up hurting more. Its pointless you know. Nothing is worth the defeat in his eyes.Even then the old flame that you have quelled, torches up sometimes. In unpredictable moments it flames up. But you kill it slowly.slowly you let it die. You are no longer that person and he isnt just any other guy.
Well, there you go.
Because then fighting was an art, one that you pursued actively, giving it your all each time it happened. You picked them out neatly and carefully, chose your moments, planting words in the other persons mouth and then shooting accusing dagger looks when they spilt them out, the confusion in their eyes spurring you on.
Then you fought because you wanted to win and you won. Because you didn't give a shit about the person. You told yourself maintain eye contact, stare hard, dont fumble, sometimes you even practised them prior. Yes, you were sick like that. Twisted in pleasure.
Your spine upright, very aware of the hair standing upright on the back of your neck. Obscene words, each one landing where it hurts.Glee, terrifying glee that accompanied their defeat. You almost never lost a fight. You picked on them more when they finally, in an last attempt, a last resort told you- Why are you like this. I love you.
The disgust in your eyes that someone would use those words to win a fight. Yes you were sick enough to think that there was no other reason they would say that. That they might actually be in love with you, never once crossed your mind. You were so held up in building up the barricades.
They looked to you like wilting flowers. Flowers that were so beautiful but alas grew in places where no one ever visited, they bloomed regularly hoping this time someone would notice the way the suns rays caught their petals, wishing for a photographer to capture the morning dew drip off in a single drop. A beautiful pearl drop. They grew sometimes on the downside of dangerous cliffs. Places where you never see them, unless of course you were on a suicide mission and you were jump off this cliff. And as you went down, you glanced at them. In that moment you wished for your feet to be planted right on earth and not tumbling through air, hurling downwards, spiralling out of control. In that moment you wished you hadn't jumped, you wished you had stuck on and tried harder but the truth is. You did not.
Now
Now you have lost the will to fight.In fact you want to avoid it as much as possible. Because when you hurt him, you end up hurting more. Its pointless you know. Nothing is worth the defeat in his eyes.Even then the old flame that you have quelled, torches up sometimes. In unpredictable moments it flames up. But you kill it slowly.slowly you let it die. You are no longer that person and he isnt just any other guy.
Well, there you go.
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