I couldn’t help but to love you,
that from your darkness pushed me away,
tried to save me from my choices.
When I told you that I loved you
for your selfless honestly,
you made up your mind to leave.
You told me as you packed your bag
that all honesty is not selfless,
that while you pushed me away
you knew that I would love you even more.
As a goodbye you braided my hair
with the flowers of your tear.
You left me with a letter,
when you robbed me of your shadow,
with ink dipped in concern,
saying that you wanted me to be better than
your second chance,
a daily pill to forget what you are,
a shoulder to bear your burden.
That only by rejecting the luxury
of being loved unconditionally,
could you ever learn to love
and see me as a human
who can bleed by loving too much.
That your leaving might be the only true gesture
that shows what you feel for me,
that it is the only thing you can do for me.
bleeds slowly onto my clothes,
onto the furniture,
on the buttons of elevator,
on the currency that leaves my hand,
on the roads I drag myself through everyday.
And they do not get lost
only because they leave my mind.
They are forever in front of my eyes
forming a layer of sadness on my daily life.
So that I do not forget
what all I have lost, what all I have suffered
to reach this point in life
where I can really smile.
I think it is another me,
the one who only knew the worse of world
who fears she will be forgotten,
so she doesn’t want to leave.
Would people have been more kinder
if only the world didn’t misunderstand
niceness on a daily basis?
How come we live with such a distorted view
that we are afraid of being good to each other?
From the fear of being judged.
From the fear of being ridiculed.
From the fear of being burdened forever.
From the fear of being taken advantage of.
From the fear of being looked down on.