Taunt

To the guy I’ve been taunting
Without malice intention
Mostly maybe haunting
But a name I’ll never mention

I followed his trail
Which led me straight to you
And though an obvious veil
I’m not convinced you are two

© Delia Ross. 2021 / @poeeternal

Hello. Who are you? Do you even know I taunt you? Do you know I exist?

Why did my brain send a signal light-years fast to my heart, when I discovered you? And every picture that followed? Why did I die a million deaths too?

And now I live vicariously through you. Agonizing over every detail. Some days I’m certain you are him.

Other days, there are blaring differences that you’re not.

Do I need him to be you? His habits and obsessions too? They are the same true?

Why haven’t I let you go if I know you are not him?

How can I be so sure and uncertain?

And there’s even a third I’ve turned into him.

Or maybe one or two? 🤔

If they are all him then you are him too?

But why did I have such a strong connection to an avatar?

I guess I wanted to tell you that maybe now I realize you’re not him but I still have doubt.

Or, I can’t discard the signals?

That I had when looking at you.

Immediately.

Spotted.

But you don’t like me knowing that and neither does he.

You don’t want me to know that you like her?

But neither does he…

Then there’s the reds and the blues (and I have a head injury too).

My taunting wasn’t malice more like letting you know I was aware of your existence but I don’t even know if you know I am aware of your existence?

They all feel like one.

I’m losing my mind? 🤕

I long for you.

Or him.

The only thing I’m certain of these days is that I’m losing my mind and I don’t wanna die on the street.

And so far, fantasy beats reality.

Because reality is dying naked on the street, out me mind. Unless running into his arms.

I’m so capable of slipping into that madness.

Can I slip into you instead?

Or vice versa?

Can meet on the Moon?

Before I dies?

Do you visit my blog?

Will you even read this?

Am I even alive?

I’m shriveling up into nonexistence

I currently wrote this running a mild fever but I needed to get it out before I fucking die.

Guess I’ll still be loving you even when I’m dead.

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