The illogicalities of being in love

16 Oct

In my mind, you still sit high on your pedestal,

dizzying, cross-legged, careless.  Your smile

so bright that it causes  identity crisis to the sun.

As you  gape at love, find it, paint it, word it,

drink it, you name it. Bring it alive.

“Love is everything. Love is staying.

It’s in the leaves, in gestures, in beats,

love is music, love is heat, it’s abstract

and concrete, it lives in your coffee cup

made with love. Made in love.”

But it turns out that mine was

only made in China.

It fell, shattered to the floor and

reflected  the last sight of you,

already halfway out of the door,

and my sigh after your hurried

escape and the milk in the fridge

turning sour. All out-of-date,

me and you and the milk.

So tell me, where is the wisdom

of staying in this staining love,

this very love you so boasted about,

light-headed and flinging happy

like a kite, where is it?  Is it in

the echo of your footsteps?

One heartbeat makes a sound but two

make a symphony, you said.

So tell me, you musical mastermind,

the conductor of our love, why did

ours turn into cacophony?

It bounced  from your packed

suitcases  and left  a ringing in my ear,

in my heart,  in my body.

A tedious ache, an irritating itch

of a mosquito bite I can’t locate,

an empty missing, a bitter hissing

of a gas pipe and this house falling apart.

And me, too loyal, rooted deep inside it.

A heart-breaker is too high honour

for you, for you simply turned my heart

into gullies, into a no-man’s-land.

So tell me why, why do I still

pay the electricity bills when

we both know it was our heat

warming these rooms?

Why do I still play the fool’s role

in this idiotic performanca, looking out

into the night, expecting to find light?

When we both know, our love

was a monologue by you, and I

was only the best supporting actor

at the time of casting.


6 Responses to “The illogicalities of being in love”

  1. Edward Hotspur October 22, 2012 at 11:09 pm #

    This was absolutely brilliant. I felt every word. I’m a follower.


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