LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS | Creep

You shine like a fire behind a pane of glass, untouchable, and I am trapped on the wrong side, pressing my hands to the cold, wanting the heat.

"𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭.”

Every thought coils around itself, every flaw looms like a shadow I cannot outrun, every step I take measured against your impossible shape. I try to sculpt myself from the dark just to be seen, just to matter.

“𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐'𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭. 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭.”

And still, you move through the world like light bending over water, impossible to hold, while I sink in the quicksand of my own desire. Every absence, every glance I cannot meet, strikes like ice on my skin, proving I am too fractured, too strange, too small.

I cannot stop wanting. I cannot stop wishing I could step into your orbit, wishing the self I carry could somehow align with yours. The longing twists me, a cage of wind and fire, pressing, insistent, unrelenting. I fold into myself again and again, fevered, broken, wanting, wanting, wanting—and knowing that no matter how I shape myself, I will never be the person who belongs in your light.