Member-only story
how many of you out there
read this and wonder who I am
he was the same, interested in people, not in writing
only interested in forgery –
imitation of real life on paper
relationships forging –
just like on dating apps
every bit was an excuse
to lure more of them
into his seedy world
for words were his weapon –
a shot at the bait
every time he felt the need
forgetting about his only therapy
avoiding the topic
and then drown in it
every two years
as this is the right mental cycle
for people like us
why didn’t he know about it?
he broke it by cutting his wrists
I think that was the sole after-effect
of breaking up with either of us
consequently, breaking my heart
I made peace with it, I waited for him to come back
and he appeared fiercer and more flagrant
my taste was in danger
and stayed there forever
in the background of his phone
watching how he is getting on
on this canvas of artificial stars
where real writers would never survive
as they have their own playground
more even and thought out
about these tiny things
that many of us here have dared to miss
busy doing too many dissolute things
