Tag Archives: poem

In love

I love him, I love him so,

I feel his pain as mine, he does not feel mine so,

To wait in vain for him to come,

To conquer his fear, but he does not,

He walks alone, but then I see,

He loves me so? But no, not ever, no . . . 

I endure the pain, my broken soul,

I walk away with my broken pieces nothing more,

To him I went, but no more,

To him, for him my heart yearns so much,

He knows not how deep in my soul he is?

He wonders why I don’t come back to him?

No, he knows not,

No, he wonders not,

No, his fear is his, 

No, my love is mine.

What is love

What is . . .

  • Love is a 90’s song by Haddaway
  • Love is the number of imperfections we are blind to in our sentimental partners
  • Love is the pain I feel when I remember you don’t love me
  • Love is to give all the shrimps on your plate to your little brother even though they are your favorite
  • Love is to cry alone at night and laugh like a crazy person in your car
  • Love is picking up the phone at all times, at any time
  • Love is . . .

Change

Around and around in my own head I go.

Wandering of wanderings.

Sometimes I see it so clearly, it’s so obvious.

Sometimes I clearly see I don’t see it.

What is it about him? What is it about me?

What is is it in this world?

Confusion and pain, in this I live.

In peace and death I wish to be.

In tears I drown, yet none I allow.

Because I know to not, not believe, yet endure.

Endure the reality of  . . . I don’t know what. I only know what not.

What is not, what it won’t. Be.

Be. It’s all I am. I am me.

I am me and I wander and I wonder and I ask.

No answer.

Never. No. Not. Always.

Always the same that it is not.

I know. I know. I even know why. But nothing will change.

I will change.

I need to change.

The way I feel now

They burn my face, the cut my skin leaving behind the proof of my emptiness.

I bear the scars of my love and my loss and the pain . . . The pain so sweet and the release so complete.

The oblivion and the darkness of death calls me to them. Or are they in me already?

The numbness spreads from within me, the ice.

The ice sharp as needles, from inside me slowly crawling to the surface.

To feel it. To feel nothing. To slowly give in.

Accept to be one, only one. In the cold, in the darkness, in the arid emptiness of human life.

Believe him

Believe him when he shows you who he truly is.

He asked me to go to dinner, we are not dating just fucking, just friends.

He asked me if he treats me respectfully, if he treats me right, I said yes.

He ditch me to dog-sit for a friend. He did not asked if I mind, he did not asked if I cared.

This is not respectful, this is not considerate.

“If you would have minded, I would have done the same. I wouldn’t have cared.”

We are not dating, just fucking, just friends. Don’t I deserve respect?

This is who he truly is. With me because there’s nothing else. Not caring if I care.

No respect for a friend, no respect for myself.

He has shown me who he truly is. I believe him.