Don’t Even Think About It
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.)
More Posts from Thsdfnngslnc and Others
"She's not pregnant."
I remember when March whispered your name to my ears.
The sky is burning, and I’m beginning to think I’m going to die if I don’t go home already. But the wind hugs me tight, and it hugs me even tighter with every step I take; I keep going. The city is growing louder than usual as the day is starting to fall asleep. I begin talking to the afternoon lights as I pass by them, and I didn't worry about a thing.
That is, until I suddenly see someone we both know. She smiles as she laughs my name. Her voice resembles yours, I think. And the aroma of barbecue being sold nearby tickles my nose. I think of you again, and of our memories that the three of us have — memories of when we were still in high school.
We used to go home late, stay at the city park, and eat street foods. We used to laugh our heads off, and smile like every second was something to be proud of. We were glad, and even if the sky was on fire every time we were together, we knew we weren't. Each of us is our wings, and each of us taught each other how to fly. We were best friends. We are best friends. We just lost communication with each other after high school. But I know we still are.
I paste a smile on my lips — the one you particularly taught me — and ask her how her life had been. Even without saying that we missed each other, our voices are full of felicity that brings out the message for us instead. And the tears at the corner of our eyes catch them.
She says that she’s good while she answers back to the smile I give. Then I ask her about you. That’s when her face illuminates a bit disappointment, but all the while, a bit of concern. I wonder if should jokingly ask her why the long face. After a few seconds though, she smiles at me, and says just above a whisper, “Have you heard the rumors?”
I furrow my eyebrows at her question, and I swear the stars that are absent tonight explode in her eyes, like all at once. I want to ask you, what did you do to make her tear up like this? What did you do?
I mumble, “I think I know what you’re talking about, but I don’t believe it at all.” And I almost think that everything is now okay. Almost. Because she freezes, and I can feel the night getting colder with her smile hanging on her face like death has finally come for her and she’s still not ready.
“She’s not pregnant,” she says. “No, not like what everyone is saying.”
“Oh, that’s good then —”
“Because she already has a baby.”
“Oh.” Oh. And that is all that it took for my heart to squeeze itself. I don’t know what to feel exactly. Should I be mad at you? Should I pity you? Should I? What should I do? What should I feel? Tell me...
The night shows its sympathy with its howl serenading the fuck out of us. I hug her, just as I also want to hug you. Because I bet when you were lying on your bed, with the whole world judging you, you felt alone. So this is what I feel right now. I feel sorry, not because of what happened to you, but because you probably felt alone and sad and angry and maybe you cried yourself to sleep every night thinking you’re a disappointment. I’m sorry we weren't there.
This is when I promise myself, that I won’t be like the others. My heart didn't rip itself just to make you do the same when we’ll let you know that we know. I will still love you, and I will be here for you. This is what I remember that happened that night. And I will tell you this the next time we see each other. And I will make sure the universe will bow to smile on your face and claim that it’s what you deserve.
(eusie.)
You
The night skies tell me to stop wishing about you, and the stars don't shine anymore for me like how you always do.
(eusie.)
The next morning, they meander along the coastal trail for an hour or so. When the sun begins to rise, they stop to look over the water. [He] stands by the edge of the cliff, facing the sea. He — finally feeling the fatigue of the miles and the hours — is sitting with his back against a large rock.
The sunrise is a little more than a finger-smudge of pale blue, glimmering in the dark sky, but then it slowly brightens into a wide beacon of gold, like a snitch hovering on the horizon. And at last, it casts the first rays of brilliant light over the waves, outlining [him] sharply against the sky.
He stares at [his] silhouette for a long time, and it's only when [he] turns [his] head to gaze into the sun that he realises he's trying to pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with [him].
It's a terrifying feeling. It's easy to lust after someone, to match their face to a missed heartbeat or a sharp intake of breath. It's easy to say, I want them because of the colour of their eyes, the lines of their body.
It's something else entirely to say, I want them because of the way they rest their hands on a steering wheel, the way they gaze out a window, the way they say my name.
— eleventy7, “Running on Air” (An excerpt)
i am not a dreamer. i do not wish upon stars. they will suck every letter of our dreamy words. they let us taste lies from every glimmer they give for our eyes to hold. they look down on us, laughing. they watch us as our grounds shake, as our souls skin out every last smile we own. i am not a dreamer. i am not hopeful. i do not hope for impossible truths. i do not hope for palpable things to become blur. because reality is right in front of us, taking out every pain in between our eyes for us to feel, and we already can’t do anything about it, but to just accept and take everything. what’s on the tip our tongues are mantras we need to swallow. we need to stop hoping. we need to.
eusie., “to the boy who’s in love with the sun” (an excerpt)
Hello, it isn’t me.
I don’t know when I started to feel the coldness of my bed. But these sheets beat me when it comes to the realization of the absence of your warmth. It took me days to understand that you won’t march back in with all the stars in your eyes. I never tried to open the lights after the day you stormed out, for I don’t know if I can stand to not see your shadows moving in to hug me from behind. Or to sneak downstairs at dawn just to let me wake up to the smell of pancakes or macaroons. I left the kitchen sink on, just so I’m not the only one who continuously fill one’s self with wasted tears. The house is a mess just as I am. Everything is flooded with our memories, and I feel like I was blinded by the smell of your breath every time you mention my name.
I guess, I just really miss you. But I won’t admit it yet.
(eusie.)
let’s give up
the ground quakes with our frantic prayers writing our blood on billed papers during wars can you hear the cry from jeremy’s brain? our eyes meet and we know — do we really know? this battle ground will end with the sunset’s kiss but our eyes… our eyes still weep can you hear these troubled hearts’ wails? our eyes meet and nothing — “let’s give up”
(eusie.)
What does your URL mean?
Do you know the band, Mayday Parade? If yes, I bet you know their song, “You Be The Anchor That Keeps My Feet On The Ground, I’ll Be The Wings That Keep Your Heart In The Clouds“.
My URL is from its lyrics, the part in the chorus that says, Does this deafening silence mean nothing to no one but me? This like, spoke to me, or something.
Anyway, my original URL was supposed to be deafeningsilence but it was already taken so I removed the vowels instead. And I got dfnngslnc. If you know my other accounts, this was always my username.
But, at some point or years ago, I left tumblr. I deactiviated, but eventually I came back. My old URL though is not available anymore. So I added ths, which is “this” without the vowel i, and that’s how I got my URL now: thsdfnngslnc.
This will be one hell of a fucking ride
a.k.a. This was supposed to be hidden / under my bed / along with stories / I refuse to read before I sleep
Standing in front of a mirror / I see myself eyeing every inch of me / the black lace covering / almost nothing / and the music on my back / is glorious
Then there’s a knock / below my feet / as the wind settles behind the curtains of my bedroom window
It takes a second then a minute / blood flowing in a rush / heartbeat flooding my eardrums / as I parade down the stairs
He stands there like a kitten / his shadow touching the back of the door
He’s breathing fire as he enters inside / then our breaths waltz / in the same air-y music / then we feel the same desperate burn on our veins / the same shyness flush on our cheeks
A beat / a whisper / then pants begin travelling in the hope of more / of more bare skin / of more blazing touches / of more sight of swollen lips
I lead him to my room / catching his fingers once inside / placing them on my shoulder blades / I lead him / to have himself kiss me wet
(eusie.)
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