Mania

[Series: Greek Love (GL)]

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❛︎Infatuation❜︎

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My lover boy, you have cotton candy sweetness overflowing from your marshmallow marrow, tinging the acrid air with candy floss chrysanthemums. The world has yet to corner in you the alleyway of despair and rob you of your innocent rebellion towards the uniform misery that locks this Earth in a straight jacket.

My lover boy, you're a coloring book and a preschool Picasso has colored out of the lines. Ichor that runs like the Ganges river around you and in all my life I've never seen a more beautifully divine mess.

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❛︎Confession❜︎

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My lover boy, your name was my prayer, a rhythmic muse that morphed into a musical mantra cradling my hollow heart. A colloquial code that only I and the air between the letters grasp. I can taste the bitter pomegranate seeds of Persephone and the sweet apple of Eve on my tongue sticking the syllables to the roof of my mouth.

My lover boy, it's either damnation or dominion. Both will land me in the underworld and it's just a bite away. I'd hope for the utterance of my undying devotion to you will be like that of a graceful dancer, legs and arms contorting to mimic the abstract painting of Wassily Kandinsky but I know better. My manic repetitions of 'iloveyouiloveyou's' will trapeze out of my mouth like a toddler twiddling around the maze of a playground bound to step on a landmine in the form of a swing set.

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❛︎Rejection❜︎

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My lover boy, did you know "love is to hate as pain is to heartbreak" was a lesson my schoolmasters had failed to teach me, but soon my carmine confession was crushed in your cruel fists, cupped and careened towards the edge of hope only to pull it into oblivion.

My lover boy, you hounded my confession from the high heaven of your gaze and heaved it into the harrowing Hades of your boot. I never thought you love like how sandpaper feels, but the burn is better than emptiness, isn't it?

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❛Obsession❜︎

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My lover boy, the love I so precisely perfected now hangs like plangent plaque on your serrated tainted teeth that tears the pages of your confinement. Perhaps it is the punishment of the divine to be cursed with the love of the damned; to bleed red blood and toil upon the cursed soil of Adam. From a deity to a demon to a drudge is a punishment not even the treacherous Tantalus could bear, but I'll love you through it anyways.

My lover boy, we'll love each other like an incomplete sentence chock full of nonsensical neologisms. Broken and incomplete, tap dancing the pothole path between holistically healthy and atomistically animosity. I could wade through the purgatory fires of my self-imposed hell because

divine

retribution

has

never

been

so

sweet

till

you

came