To Scold the Skies
Chocolate gave a look to the mirror.
Aching arms scamper around tie lines; one look and a smile, another and a grin; blink, then a maybe wink; one more, a little bit grim; final glance – just thin.
Blazer pulled to the hilt, professional and smart; serious face like a judge, hair flattened down; immaculate complexion, save some red spots and brown freckles around the bridge of his nose; a fake smile, falsely okay eyes.
"I'll be able to say this easy thing, There'll be no need for alternative; To say it today is certainly fate, Today, is that one day I'll scold the skies with "I love you""
Sheets a bomb-site, nose dug into the darkness of pillow-land; slide to the right, not left; just wall; sit up, stomach muscles tensed dull-achingly.
Hands from dreams on his yesterday frame – that frozen, science class skeleton pose; coldness of nails pressed, as if through his shirt; smallest letters, shortest period of long time, it seemed as though; double-o on the 'good' in 'good luck' – the place where his eyes first lay lace.
Unbuttoned, chest encircling with the movements, fingerprints rested upon yesteryears' flame.
Chuck to the grave of the bottom of his bed, in an attempt of banishment, a throw was issued; until a fool had it disappeared, for now.
The old, year's old school shirt, school shirt blues; signed not much – never did have many friends.
One name came to the front, though snuck tightly beneath the neck of collar bone on his back; still burned with embarrassment, still scolded like a fresh seam, all together.
'Good luck. Takeru'
Blink.
It's so helpless, to wish I could just walk right up to you. To say something that's been chasing me since the night after the only first sunrise we'd met; that which could only happen once – has happened once – once over again.
Through my eyes, past my pupil, brown iris, and retina; all the way back to the part which controls those invisible things we can't see but somehow feel – and somehow kind of see, because of this; there lays only mystery.
You and I seem a billion night-years in distance, when only my hesitance and your ignorance is the obstacle between that which divides.
Open.
Breathless, after the thoughts, burgundy hair unshaped, creeping up like an unrequited love light; almost scarlet under the light beam, dig zings and jagged points erected from the ploughed mess of hair.
Shake, fingers pulled tie of in a dance of frustration, top button flew open, like feathers from a not unexploded pillowcase; blazer shrugged straight off, sleeves slipping right through small, pointy shoulder blades.
In complete reverse, trousers fall down helplessly, legs bare until covered with pyjama bottoms; school shoes unforgotten, sudden flick off, with a particular finger down the back in rear pressuring.
Funeral-black socks slid beyond small toes, tired ankles and soles remained cold on the shiny floorboards beneath. Second best wish after the carpet, they traipsed onto comfy bed sheets; surrounding in a sort of silky tidiness.
School shirt glued pointedly at his back collar.
"Unable to say this simple statement, Some other way will have to be thought of; I could never say it, but certainly, Just to show you, one day I'll scold the skies with "I love you""