Let Me Devour Your Darkness

Love that consumes, and may eventually devour and destroy.

I don’t smoke—but if you were a cigarette, I’d let that detrimental smoke of yours invade my lungs, let my system slowly become fragile, even if it meant carrying you for eternity in my rotting, aching chest.

I don’t drink often—but if you were alcohol, I’d devour every bitterness in you, drink until my bloodstream runs with you, until my whole body becomes unsteady, and in the end, I would still reach for more.

I don’t gamble—but if you were the prize, I’d risk everything—do my best strategy, risk not all my money, but whatever’s left of me— just to finally grasp you.

The world is too cruel, let alone people. Let’s run away—until dawn comes. Lose ourselves somewhere between the sun and moon. Run until our bodies weaken, where time and place no longer ask questions— just your presence beside me, and the silence around us fading into darkness.

And if the crack of dawn takes it all away, I’ll still remember every fragment of you that I almost had.

I would choose you, regardless of who you’d become. I will choose you even if you have bad traits. Love is not perfect at all, so let me love your flaws. Let me love the whole you.

Let me invade that echo chamber of yours. Let me drown in your chocolate-brown eyes. Let me embrace you tightly in my open arms while caressing your hair.

Let me lay my lips upon yours until I run out of breath, gasping for air—desperately and endlessly.