My love,
I was loving you like the root of a sweet potato—
tied to the heart,
but never to the feelings.
Let’s meet again in another lifetime.
That time,
I’ll be the one to find you first,
and I’ll hold your hand
before the world can take you away.
You anchor your rancor, a cancerous canker,
Not just any mole
Your hatred you hide it, you split and divide it,
It's soured your soul
The women, you bait them, you date and berate them,
You're no kind of man
You're just out for the kill and you spill out your swill,
Like nobody can
Their hearts beating faster, they race towards disaster,
Watch out for that curve
The dark he is seeking, it weakens their beacons,
But strengthens his nerve
They know they're in trouble, his efforts now double,
Not just a bad dream
Unable to match him, they kick and they scratch him,
And let out a scream
He's vain, so he's flattered, they're raped and they're battered
And left there to bleed
In his warped little brain, all their terror and pain,
Will then fill his need
Through hell and high waters, must teach all our daughters,
To stand up and fight
It's horrific but true, it could happen to you,
And happen tonight
I hate my low moments.
Those moments when I try not to but my eyes find your name and my finger dial your number
These days it never goes through anymore
All I hear is a beep then a silence I will never fill with words
I dont want you to pick up.
I dont want your voice to warm up my heart again.
It grows so cold in the silence thereafter
Against my better judgement I keep dialing.
Hoping you'll pick up yet praying that you wont.
I really hope you dont use the kind of phone that stores calls that didnt get through
I dont know how I'll explain what business my fingers have dialing your number
What business my heart has wanting to hear your voice.
I have to admit, mindless hope is one of my bad habits
And you...are just another
- All My Bad Habits
Come near do not take your gaze from mine
The heavens have nothing on the stars of your eyes
If you're willing take my hand. let our destinies entwine
If not then fear not for your company will grant me respite
A reprieve from the death of love unachieved
The loss of my heart to an unassuming thief
To be deprived of mourning causes even greater grief
So stay even if to leave if best as you may believe
Stay so your presence will shatter my deluded heart
Stay so your presence will not be granted a deserters part
Stay so that when I heal. my heart will be built anew
Stay so that when your heart is given to another
I'll be devoid of envy and my happiness for you will be true
How am I supposed to feel after expressing it.
It’s so bad, this unrequited love.
I yearn to have you love me but it’ll never happen.
Why must I be so close to you yet so far, for now I hold onto you, but how long can I keep going.
It’s a bad religion to be in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.
Had you also had feelings for would things be different or would we both be too destructible for each other.
This love for you is so far deep that I can’t help but pray that one day you’ll wake up to love me back.
Like a cat,
I've nine times to die —
and love has taken seven.
Once,
when you said my name like it was a question.
Twice,
when you answered it with silence.
Thrice,
when you loved someone else
in front of me
like I was made of stone
instead of soul.
I keep returning —
from wreckage,
from wreck,
from wreck again.
You don't know
how many lives I’ve lost
just staying alive
next to you.
And still —
I come back,
tail flicking,
heart limping,
eyes full of the same soft hope
that kills me every time.
Eight.
That’s when you smiled
and didn’t mean it.
Nine…
Well, nine is today.
And I’m still here.
Still breathing.
Still breaking beautifully
in front of you.
So tell me —
When a cat runs out of lives,
what does she do?
Does she finally sleep?
Or does she
learn how to die
without anyone
noticing?
I see the shadow in your eyes,
The quiet war you try to hide.
Still, I stay, still I wait--
Drawn to every twist of fate.
On a bed of thorns, I close my eyes,
And count the tears I can't disguise.
What do I hold, when your hands let go?
What do I keep, when I already know?
I can't breathe in, and I can't let go--
What do I hold, when you won't show?
You say you care, but you're not near--
I give it all, and drown in fear.
I breathe in love, but choke on doubt,
Still I wait, still I bleed it out.
What do I hold, when your hands let go?
What do I keep, when I already know?
I can't breathe in, and I can't let go--
What do I hold, when you won't show?
And I give myself away,
Yes, I give myself away.
I give and I give,
Till there's nothing left to say.
My soul is tied,
My body bruised,
Left here standing
With nothing to choose.
Still I give myself away,
Even when you look away--
I give and I give,
Though you never ask me to stay.
What do I hold, when the fire runs cold?
What do I keep, when the silence grows bold?
I can't breathe in, and I can't let go--
What do I hold, when I already know?
She throws herself at the feet
of the unimpressed—
rolling, rubbing and yowling,
an opera of yearning
for the neutered elite.
They blink, stretch, then saunter off
for another nap
on the sun-pooled sill,
leaving her to flirt
with the legs of chairs.
Bewildered by the bopped nose,
the rebuffed overtures—
arching and warbling,
tail high with invitation—
she meets only
indifference or disdain.
Again she circles,
unsure if maybe
she’s doing it wrong.
Mid-kitchen now,
she flops down wailing
betrayal in the key of estrus,
as if to say:
Was it something I purred?
A mountain sits
And a river flows
A mountain suffers her tears
And the infiltration of life
Wildflowers necklace it
As the goats dance up and down its rocky parts.
It can wiggle off snow as well as a buffalo a gnat
Knowing it will be better for the snow to leave for awhile and come back when it has changed from its journey back.
The mountain stays
And only changes slowly
And it comforts the variable lives
That tend toward a flippant love
All around it
How weak is a volcano to succumb to its burning lust? How selfish.
A mountain is our shoulder
It endures the triviality and variability of short bursts of butterflies
In the meadow
Constantly
And outliving most of us.
Like the crying sky whose tears fall on him
And forget on a sunny day that he will always be her shoulder
Even when there are clouds between them.
"Trap—for the ones who mistake affection for devotion, and fall for voices spun from smoke. He never promised me forever. But still, I stayed… oblivious. Drunk on words, blind in the dark, begging the silence to lie"
Then his words—
they don’t help.
They wrap around me like silk
only to choke.
Ancora una volta.
Again.
Again, I fall
for the way he speaks
like I matter.
Like I’m wanted.
But he’s my ladra—
my thief.
My freaking damn heart
is gone,
and he walks
like he never held it.
He smiles,
and I forget the pain.
He speaks,
and I forget the truth.
He lingers in my mind
like a lullaby
sung by a blade.
And I—
God, I still listen.
I still want.
Even knowing
he won’t reach back.
I dream of hands that never held me,
of eyes that never stayed.
Still, I wait,
like longing can rewrite
what silence never said.
He doesn't want me—
that’s the truth.
Even when his voice
is the sweetest trap
I’ve ever begged
to die in.
If love is...
feeling unloved,
anxious and starved,
give my regards
Does the torment of love's hate
eliminate pain?
If love is trembling lips
and sultry eyes, upon them
everlasting cries,
Charcoal tears that pour
What answers are there
for these unwanted sores?
Binding spells of
the unforgiving way swells
She the accuser shames
with her bitter blame
Aging with, until the bitter end
Accusing of his unrequited love
Awaits for his apologies
with a scorn, torn in self-pity
Nothing gained, nothing learned
Yearn, yearn, yearn
Self-loathing is apparent
Possibly inherent
Therefore, never really knowing
love and its understanding
and had mistaken it
enamored in its--lustful cradle
When the soul still yearns,
The chaos in her heart burns,
lonely is desire
I beg
Have mercy
Kill this dream
End my misery
If you will never choose me, make it clear now
Give me something real to mourn
If you are destined to break my heart, do it now
Give me something real to move past
If you will only ever give false hope, discard me now
Give me something real to end the cycle
Douse the flame
Bury the fire
End the torment
I beg
Hey!
Can you see that
Sorrow, pain, stress
That darkness like painter ink
That echo like abandoned palace
That droughts like cursed farm
Time is moving slow and slow
Hey!
Is that love?
Are sure is it,
Are you?
Sometimes it's doesn't matters
It's not supposed to be real
And You know am in deep sea
Am drowning please, help me
I just wanna float.
The splendid, resplendent
aurora sweeps the inner
life.
I stare at gory , leaden
clouds , unable to deter
them.
From causing drops of blood to
run down the shrill , deathless
desert.
A magnificent ,mazy grove
is painted with colorful ,
golden threads.
The unassuming ,
unflinching morn is
the incarnation of sedate silence
The wrathful , woundless
creek thrives like
rapturous hues of
serenity.
What's the scope of
:lifeless wretchedness?
: dreamed embers?
: unquenchable longing?
: weeping anemone?
The oracular , intricate soul
shields a shaded woodland
like a forested daybreak.
What today weighs light in your life
Would one day swell, feel fairly rife,
Pages of your life, getting full,
Would look ever so beautiful.
What seems today unknown to you--
You who has not known what is love--
Would when love sparkles with its hue,
Leaving today out of my groove,
I feel lost but not of my hope,
My love still gives you a long rope--
A rope that ties
Defies,
Vies.
_________________________
Musings |21.02.2025| love
Note: Time was when love was burning bright, but unreciprocated. It slowly lost vigour, a fact reflected here by diminishing size of the stanzas, and yet…
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