The sun in your eyes sets so slowly. I need to remind myself that this is not the end. This is not the end. This is not the end. This is but a chasm left open for the love to see. For the love to see and for this love to grow into the darkness we hide from each other, from this world, from our own eyes. She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me today, tomorrow she may not, she will love me as long as she can. These are the words I got to say and suffer over, again and again. These are the words that made me walk a little bit more. Is there anything more beautiful than this? That you were the light, the wind, the silence, the flickering hope in my heart. How can I lose you, when you are all that I am.
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You are always there when I look back.
That is enough I guess.
I hope I never learn to want more.
you always gift me red sonnets.
and i always kiss you back,
the color of my lips fading
in front of acts of affection.
i put them on my bed
as i sleep on the floor.
i stir my soaking noodles
with a branch broken
from this bunch.
i bite the sides of my mouth
make myself cry a little bit more.
and the me that i was, that you hated once, but not as much what i am right now
and your rough sketch of me that looks like bits and pieces of your past lovers
and your ticking clock, both waiting for me to change
and you habit of making me wait, of walking out on me
and your empty seat that you have already forgotten
with your air of arrogance that i pretend not to see for the sake of loving you
and your smile that sometimes (most of the times) have nothing to do with me
and your calls out of blue, calling me love, calling me heartless, throwing me away and calling me back,
and your words, your voice always asking for more
and your insistence of loving in past and hating in present
and your love that wants never to be associated with me
and your cruelty of always forgetting (only) me, forgetting the hurt you cause
asking me to love you back in spite of all, asking me to speak only in sweet words, never asking me how i made it through the pain you gave me last time, never wondering what do i want out of this love, that has no place for me
all the folded boats
spill out of my empty books.
the trees are on fire again.
my mind is on a another wild chase.
my hands light some more branches.
“the world is too cold for me”,
is all that i can say.
today, i am less sad than yesterday,
which makes everything that much more difficult.
today my sorrows have become facts.
my childhood reduced to folded boats in a trash can.
is there any other way to live than this?
i never learnt about gardening, nor about patience, nor about caring,
nor about looking after anything that doesn’t speak, doesn’t complain,
doesn’t tell me in plain words how i am terrible, how i mistakes make me
even if those mistakes are not mine.
i wish i was blind, i wish i was mute,
i wish i was the cactus in your bedroom.
i wish i was the books you didn’t read but can’t throw away.
i wish i could stop wanting to be a decoration in your life.
i wish i could stay human and stay in love at the same time.
in my room
i close my eyes, and find myself with you.
it must be dream, i wish it was.
for here you don’t cry because of me,
don’t have to tear yourself up just to be nice to me.
i wish it was a dream
because here i have forgotten to tell you
that i can’t love anything that loves me back.
i wish you stop making my heart ache with your sincerity.
i wish i woke up
before you sacrifice anything more than you already have.
It pains me to say this
but I can live without you.
So remember my cruelty
and forget me as easily
as I have cast you aside.
You look better without my shadow
and my life is easier without your light.
Not everything in our life is about love.
We are more than what our hearts want.
We are more than whom we find.
I will give you company till the night ends
but that it where we part
there is nothing to us more than that.