The Passover

He looked like every other angel of birth,
but he was an angel of death,
He looked like every other angel of berth,
but he was an angel of dearth.
He would make you moan in pleasure
so he could make you groan in pain.
I had been warned by his ex-prey,
and I was prepared to drive him insane.
I sprinkled the blood of his victims
on my door,
and in my eyes,
and in my ears,
and on my lips,
and on his head.
“You can’t kill me like you did them.
You have tried in vain, lame.”
He passed right over me,
and he never called me again.

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Unre-QUIT-ed IX

Love is a Cave:
I am in love,
but I am in it alone,
I am not in love with you,
and it hurts me to the soul
each time you remind me
that I am in love,
but you are not in it with me.

Unre-QUIT-ed VIII

“I don’t feel the same way about you.”
“I don’t feel the same way…”
“I don’t feel the same…”
“I don’t feel…”

There you are!

Feeling all things and everything
so intensely about a person
in the deepest parts of your soul,
losing the strength to be alone,
trying really hard to be whole,
and they “don’t feel” any of it.

Nothing hurts more.

Unre-QUIT-ed VII

He never expressed it;
he imprisoned the love he had for me.
Sometimes, it would try to escape
through his mouth,
but he would swallow it again.
At other times,
it would try to escape through his hands,
but he would pull them back.
After a while, he could not
hide it from his eyes;
I could see the love in his eyes.
He would shut them tight and look away,
and when he looked back at me,
I would see the imprisoned love again-
begging for freedom,
asking for help,
screaming my name…

Unre-QUIT-ed VI

It’s hard to be the girl of your dreams
when you don’t even dream
with your eyes open.
Perhaps you do,
but you don’t share them with me
so that I can dream with you.
I have nothing to look forward to,
except many nights of wishing I did.

‘No Use’ is Abuse II

She used to miss him more
when they were together
than she does now.
His absence was difficult
to deal with when he was present;
it isn’t now.

Killer-Healer II

You asked if I could die with you
and I said “yes”.
You didn’t ask if I would;
you didn’t say you were a killer.

I should have known
you were already dead.
No one can possibly die with
someone who is already dead.

You didn’t say you would
get me addicted to your love
and then stop giving it to me.
You didn’t say much.

Narcissus

narcissus.jpg

Richard Baxter – Narcissus and Echo (2000) – Detail

“I don’t love her
but I want to be loved by her.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?
You want her, right?”

“No, but I want her to want me.”

Dead Love

womanShe always had to ask if he loved her, and he often replied with a “yeah, yeah, love you, sure I do. Why do you keep asking?”

She was looking for the Àjọkẹ́, s’ó n gbọ́ mi? Mo nífẹ̀ẹ́ rẹ. The I am in love with you that was often said with a soft voice and a pleading gaze; it was what she was used to, what she had taken for granted. It was what she really wanted.

She hated herself for hurting a man who used to declare his love for her ever so often, sometimes with tears in his eyes, because he did so. 


There could be two different men in this piece, or just one man [the same man], depending on how you choose to interpret it.

Unrequitedly Requited

African-Woman-Konstantin-Yegorovich-Makovsky-Oil-Painting-1-800x1084

“African Woman” by Konstantin Yegorovich Makovsky [Oil Painting]

“I love you.”

My heart froze, but not out of fear. It was beating very quickly, and I could have sworn it was having continuous orgasms, if I had to describe the feeling. I wasn’t afraid anymore; I was nervously, intensely relieved.

He loved me.
He loved me.
He. loved. me.
Oh, God.

Then he continued, and right after he did, I wished that he hadn’t.

“I love you two, you and Leidy.”

Wait, one second! Did he say “I love you two” earlier or “I love you too”?

“You both mean so much to me and I’m lucky to have you as sisters from another mum.”

I immediately burst into laughter, and for some reason, he began to giggle too.

“You both are my babies.”

Well, he just didn’t know when to stop, did he? 

I began to laugh even louder. I laughed so much so that tears began to run down my face.
He was laughing because I was laughing; I was laughing because I thought I had just made a fool of myself, and I was deeply hurt. If he was laughing because I was laughing, he was laughing because I had made a fool of myself, because I was deeply hurt.

I so desperately wanted to sink into the ground and disappear or fly on the angel of death’s wings and never return. He loved me, that was good, but not the way I wanted to be loved.