I know you think about me, more than you probably should, perhaps in more ways than one. The crumpled paper with struck through lines possibly has my name written all over it. It's hard not to look at you and think of what we could have become. Your brevity, my oddity, we could have been them, hopelessly and carelessly in love, throwing caution to the wind, building castles on the sand, crashing against the rocks like waves, rising and falling with the tide, sweeping away everything like a hurricane with nothing left but our bare, naked selves to begin a new evolution with. 

I cannot stop thinking about you and maybe this is the beginning of something that will destroy us both. But I am absolutely ready to take that fall with you, because I also cannot help thinking that maybe, I am slowly and hopelessly falling in love with you anyway. 

Aren't you tired of running around in circles? Because God knows I am! There's him, there's her and there's us. I haven't said much, but sometimes I wish you could hear the things in my head, the conversations I have with you in my head. I picture us lying together, not saying a word and yet, understanding each other perfectly, our bodies in sync, catching rhythm to every dropping beat playing in the background in our heads, our fingers maneuvering the contours that hide secrets deeper than the ocean, my thoughts galloping with yours in the abyss that we both know so well. Like in a drunken reverie, incoherent sentences fail to describe how this is all too real for me. I wish you knew that I want the same things as you. I wish the tremor that breaks me from the insides, every time you touch me, broke you into a million little pieces too. But then again, there's him, there's her and here we are, free to choose, but not free from the consequence of the choices we make. 

A woman scorned

Why is it so hard for me to forgive, you ask.

No, I cannot forgive you. Don't ask me why. I have lost count the number of times I have stared at the ceiling wondering if it was something I did. You see, heartbreak was easy. But sleep? That shit wasn't. Every time my phone beeped I'd hope it was you, texting to say you were sorry and what a terrible mistake you made. Yes, you did ask for forgiveness, I remember. You did say that it was a mistake we ever dated. You were sorry that I fell for you despite all your flaws, you were sorry that you had to move on. You were sorry that you wanted a life without me.

No, I cannot forgive you. That would be unfair. You drove me crazy with your silence. I was a damaged woman. I was a wreck. I was a fool. I was hopeless. I felt things that I shouldn't have. I begged you to see reason. I wanted to show you that we could be good together. How was I to know that you were as damaged as I was? How was I to know to know that our worlds would collide and we would self destruct? Except, you knew it from the start. You knew it would end before it began.

No, I cannot forgive you. I tried, but I failed. You see, you are like damaged goods with no return policy. What do I do with damaged goods? Should I put them away in a box? Like how I put away your memories in a place where revisiting would be a torture? But hell, I can deal with torture! I wish I could return everything-your words that cut like a steely knife. It still hurts, thank you very much.

I cannot forgive you. Forgiving is easy. And I don't want the easy way out for you. I want you to feel what I have felt. I want you to understand what is it like to have loved someone without conditions and then have your heart broken into a million pieces. I want someone to do to you what you did to me. I want you to drown in your own "confusion" that you so conveniently hurled at me like an abuse when I asked you why. And then maybe then you will understand why it is so hard for me to forgive.

Until that happens, I cannot forgive, and neither will I forget. 

Of passion and words.

I swallowed your words,
After they melted before my eyes.
They grew inside me.

I am a plant now.
Of stunted growth-naked and dry.
You see, winter was never my season,
But nobody questions my nakedness.

Do you see the words branching out?
They are your words,
Words of Passion.
Your Promise.
Our affair.

I shall water the plant,
With your melted passion,
And let it grow in me.
Again.

Supersonic Heartbeat

I like this darkness, it is comforting:

Visions blurred, memories nebulous,

And supersonic heartbeat.

 

Greed

You offered me You
You were mine
I ate You
I finished You
Now I'll never find another You.