Life As A Writer

Michael Daaboul. 26 y/o from Australia/Melbourne. Digital Designer & Creative Writer.

What’s it like to kiss you again for the first time in the pouring rain? What’s it like to feel overwhelming urges to be with you? What would I feel when I turn your face towards mine and say you look beautiful? What does it feel like to see you smile again for the very first time? Will I faint when love happens between the touch of our enlacing fingers or will I wake up one day and realise after meeting a million hearts, that none of them stayed with me, like you did.
Michael Daaboul

What Missing You Sounds Like

I’m sorry that I didn’t do enough.

I want you to know that each day hurts without you.

I feel you’re fading away from my mind, but not from my heart. My heart won’t let you go and it holds on to you with claws anchored in as if losing you will cut open a wound so large it would flutter an abnormal rhythm from every chamber. All the contractions will be in shock, the lower chambers will hum the Valley of Death and the music to my ears, and how your smile looks to my eyes will all be out of sync.

I hope that you will come back to me and we can start again.

But you are gone.

You are gone.

Cut open and flutter abnormally a rhythm and dance with me in the lower chambers, and you walked with me holding my hands in the Valley of Death and left me all out of sync.

What is there to do?
What is there to see?
I don’t want to be stuck in the ordinary
I don’t want to be a victim of the routine.

I don’t want a 9 to 5 job
I want to be different.

I want to disappear into your arms
I want you to take me away.

Show me a place where no one has been
Show me the place where your heart has been.

Show me, you.
Naked.

Show me what it’s like to dance between your legs
Show me what it’s like to touch you.

Michael Daaboul

The Day I Decided to be Broken

Why did I stay?

I have never seen a mind quite like this one. I couldn’t sense her; I couldn’t feel what she was, or what she was feeling. I couldn’t read her.

Naturally, I wanted to know more. I was instantly pulled towards her, she fascinated me. She baffled my understanding, my logic, everything I knew, when I looked at her, I felt like I knew nothing.

I had this howling desire to be with her. And I did just that, I hurled my entire existence in her direction, every part of me. It was an obsession, it was freedom, all strangely intertwining together, kissing and being stubborn all at the same time.

Nothing about me or her, or our unbending minds could change it, both strong and weak, soaking up every moment.

All I did was let my emotional universe become consumed, I let it become, in its entirely, completely consumed. My mind had an equal, every thought expanded to the point I had no more understanding of what was happening.

This whole situation was awfully blemished, but she was there, larger than the planet itself, looking straight at me; this one person, precarious and so fragile.

I knew from the beginning that she would destroy me and for a fleeting moment that seemed to last a lifetime, it didn’t bother me. Every emotional tug-of-war and every crack that surfaced, I didn’t mind. My mind was feeding from the calamity from her lips and my whole existence was one with her.

Why did I stay? I stayed because I wanted to be broken, I wanted to be destroyed in such a way that I didn’t recognise who I was anymore. I was terminal, emotionally exhausted and weak. There was nothing left of me which was the perfect opportunity to evolve into something much more. How well did I know myself? How could I become someone else in a state of crisis?

I thought I knew who I was, but, I knew nothing at all.

What Nostalgia Sounds Like

I used to write to you all of this cute stuff that only you would understand. I would put a goofy emoticon at the end, because I would be smiling; and I know you would have a goofy smile on your face reading my silly stuff.

I will then ask you how your day is going. If you slept okay last night? Talk to you about all the small details. I will read with such curiosity, my eyes would anxiously wait for every detailed letter from your fingertips. I won’t reply back straight away, but you’re as bad as me, and we both can’t wait more than a few minutes before breaking and reply back at the exact same time!

I will tell you that I need to get you a gift because your birthday is soon and you try to guess what kind of gift I will get you. You know I’m not going to tell you, but it’s your cute way of dropping small hints. Then I will tell you I can’t believe it’s almost DECEMBER, and we’ll both lay down and wonder where has the time gone? Then we’ll talk about our little adventures putting up the Christmas tree and you will tell me about your special arrangements with all the decorations.

After all of that nonsense, I will quietly tell you how beautiful you are and you will be silent for a few seconds as if you heard the most amazing melodic lyric you have ever heard and you can’t reply but faint just a little inside.

Anonymous asked:
can i request a piece please? i really enjoy your style of writing, i would love to read from your words whats it like staying in a relationship you probably shouldn't be in. i feel like i can relate to everything you write, thank youu!!!
I might not understand how hard this is for you, I’m not sure what you’re going through. I’m not even sure if you sleep at night. I’m not sure if you wish that you had someone to talk to at 3 A.M. When I look into your eyes, I know everything is not okay, they tell me more than words ever could. You’re not alone in this.
Michael Daaboul
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