Science Fiction 365 - Chronovore

Time eaters. They do so enjoy eating time. That causes quite a bit of havoc for the rest of us. Luckily, there are hunters out there to take out the bigger time eaters so that the time line remains intact and doesn't bunch up like a blanket on a busy night. Some of those animals get big, though. Real big.

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Autumn

Like a child, your intensity was matched only by your lack of defenses. I can see how you would have been confused by my actions.

For instance, I worked really hard at entertaining you and distracting you from the real me. The me I thought you wouldn’t like. It was habit, I assure you.

For me, becoming an adult meant being forced to please someone I hated. I figured it was a common experience for all humans. It wasn’t until later, like now, that I think that I was wrong. That maybe it isn’t common.

If we were made God’s image, then God must have been a dancer. That’s what I think when I watch you move.

I walk like something that’s been rebuilt,

Part of my theory of life is that you don’t truly shine until you become a shadow of your former self. You make me doubt that.

For you, the winners win, the losers lose, and no one cries foul play. That’s competition.

For me, I’ve been told to fuck off for so long that I mistake attention for attraction. I’m learning.

For my entire life, I’ve been facing a one-man firing squad that looks a lot like a mirror while you’ve been busy taking on the world.

I’m a draining bathtub and you’re a forest fire.

I’m a cat in a bookstore and you’re an eagle in a henhouse.

We are both white flags. Me because I’m too tired and you because you’re too busy.

Sometimes when we’re sleeping together, I don’t even realize we’re touching until you leave.

That’s the part that makes me want to write an apology and move to a different country twelve time zones away so that even on the same planet, we will rarely sleep at the same time.

Fear of intimacy doesn’t cover it. Hatred of love only tastes the edges.

Half of my mind is black holes.

Your galaxies shine, vast in their unknowable differences and still spreading. I miss you even when you’re in my arms.

I used to think that was gratitude. I’m starting to think that maybe it’s something else.

Burn it all away. Burn me down to nothing. Leave me with only the vastness of your outlook to take me home.




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