Illustration From Unrequited Love/ 暗恋橘生淮南 

an interview with my neighbor

part 2: macy edwards-johansson

i knocked on the door with a force that could break my knuckles as if my heart isn't enough with all its pieces crumbled to the tiles of the doorway

please don't let this one break me again

macy wasn't always home she looks for it in certain places and from a number of persons i wouldn't want to know

"home shouldn't be about the t.v. going nuts as you rest on your couch after a long day “so you sleep instead and it should be okay “home shouldn't be being aware of the bloody smoke coming from your cigarette that will blind you from living “but you choose to give in anyway because damn it, you're already dead from all these shit happening in your life “home should be sitting on the bottom of stairs with no one to calm you down “but the walls lull to you that it's okay to cry so you cry “home, to me, is when you want to be fucked up “so your home fucks you up, but in the end, it stays beside you, unbroken and full to cope up with your brokenness and emptiness"

she wants to be loved so fucking bad i don’t know if she’ll ever get to find someone who’ll make her feel home

macy didn't respond on the first to three banging on the door

i hoped she's somewhere inside sleeping peacefully and not anywhere hugging her fingers on bottle necks, getting damn wasted

i shouted her name and then her house shrieked her door slowly danced open, revealing macy with droopy eyes

before i can even drop a phrase, she whispered gently — and i saw the universe glowing in her eyes —

“i finally found my home”

and that was all i needed for today

(eusie.)

“You look at him like the story of Icarus is a lesson you’re never gonna learn. Oh, but maybe some things were just meant to burn.”

— like he’s the ocean and it’s a goddamn shame that you never learnt to swim | via p.d

Let’s put it like this

a.k.a. I changed ... a couple of times

Your presence can be heard in every shut of the eyes and in every nightmare turned into screaming out of beds while sweating like there had been a storm that poured down on our naked skins on every morning in the month of December. The afternoon radios that sing the saddest of lyrics are snowflakes in our noses melted into small amount of water that tickle our spines — they are like you. You numb the tears out our of hearts and hold our cells and wrap us in ice, not to slowly constrain the happiness hiding in our bones to conquer our veins, but to carve us into like you, to become sadder and colder, and to become a blizzard.

(eusie.)

i'm scared to be scarred again. give me a little bit more time

two hearts tiptoeing across shreds of an old vase of red roses

eles (eusie.)

Thank you for the judgment. I will eat them all till they fill my stomach with nothing but your words. I will let them burn all what’s inside of me till I die, and I will visit you and whisper these things you’ve said so you can eat them too and I will come out of your body and conquer your soul.

January 26, 2014 (eusie.)

You’ve thrown my pieces away — far from my reach that I couldn’t put myself back into whole again. Were you exhausted because I couldn’t pick them on my own? I am lost within the forest you’ve made, while you burned the gardens inside of me and disappeared. You said you won’t leave though, but you did; you left. So why, despite everything, is your voice still my lullaby? But the clock inside my room is louder, that I can’t sleep anymore. Tick, tock tick, tock — it’s 2:58 AM and my surroundings are quite troubling, and everything just seems so plangent.

What happened when you said you’ll never get tired of me? (eusie.)

hello. there is nothing to see here but hand-me-down treasures and half-assed writings

you should spread your smile on my neck, and eat me like i’m your favorite breakfast. then i'll bite the crumbs on your shoulder blades; baby, you're the sweetest dessert

on the table (eusie.)

Don’t even think about it

The two of them are on top of the world, and with only a little bit more, they’ll be on the edge. No one else knows where they are. Instead, the music circulating on their veins take them away from the fact that she is with him. No one else knows that the town will forever be dripped in red starting from that night. No one else knows.

She looks at him though, as if he created the universe with his smile. Her ribcage breaks from how fast her heart beats. It is chaos to be in love with him, but she doesn’t know it yet. Tick tock — Her breathing halts  — tick tock  — after he sings her name  — tick tock  — and she thinks her whole existence will rupture —  tick tock  — with the sound of his voice. She barely hears someone screaming at the strike of midnight. And with another tick of the clock, her mind becomes a black hole.

He knows he has this effect on her, of course, and his soul rejoices with it. But does he put his lips on hers? No. Instead, he caresses her fingers slowly and softly. Then he whispers, “Like waves crashing on your shores.” He reaches for her neck, and he sucks in her smell. “Like a storm coming your way,” he continues. Then as his nose ventures from her jawline to her cheeks, he goes, “Like a gun sketching on your face.”

The night appears to be calm. Both of them appear to be calm. She appears to be calm. But —

The night feels flustered. Both of them feel aroused. She feels dizzy. And he feels victorious. He starts —

He tells her she is a treasure chest that shouldn’t be hidden from the world. So he opens her up like her insides are gold. She feels like glowing. He kisses her curves in between like knives cutting through skin. It’s a ticklish feeling, she thinks, as a satisfying warmth flows down to her stomach. He pulls her out. And if she was struggling to breathe ever since he kissed her skin, she struggles more so as her lungs die from his touch. But she still feels like glowing, as if she is the sun. She is the sun to his universe.

This time, he finally he kisses her lips as his fingers linger on her cheeks. She notes to herself that he tastes painfully delicious. He looks down on her and she blushes. She covers her heart, embarrassed that maybe he can see his own name on it. But he can see it, and so he travels in between her heartstrings, planting his teeth. He smiles at her after, and her heart stops right there. But she manages to kiss him, and she gets dizzy again. She feels him punching something, but she calls out to the universe. Her moaning harmonizes with the night’s melodies.

And then, “I’m in love with you,” comes out from her abused and wet lips as it reddens more than a red sea. “I’m in love with death,” comes out from his as he horribly presses hers together. “Then I am too,” she continues, but her words disappear with the wind’s cries.

Tick tock — There is silence, then a couple more exchange of murmured words — Tick tock.

The two of them are on top of the world, and after crawling gracefully on this starless night, she finds herself on the edge. And she falls down. No one hears her groaning as she lands on the scattered stars on the ground. No one even notices. Until everyone does. But no one knows what happened. No one.

Six hours later. Six days then. Six weeks after. No one still knows. And no one knows that someone knows. That he knows.

He remembers their last words. He remembers his heart dancing on fire. “Don’t mention it,” he says after she thanks him. He remembers her eyes bleeding and burning. “Won’t even think about it,” she says before she closes her eyes.

No one else still knows what happened that night. No one even notices his murderous eyes prying on everyone who asks him about her. Because, no one will ever admit it, but everyone is probably in love with him too. So no one else questions when he answers, “It’s suicide.”

(           k & eusie.)