Monday, August 23, 2021

Dear Love,

 Dear Love,

When I said, "I hope you hurt!"

I wasn't thinking well. 

Or maybe I was. 

But it was mostly because I was incensed.

I opened myself to you.

Bared my burdens and losses,

My pains and regrets.

Even my secret joys and plans.

And yet you replied

With your silence

And the news of loving

Someone else.

Maybe Congreve was right

When he wrote about The Mourning Bride.

"Heaven has no rage, like love to hatred turned,

Nor hell a fury, like a woman scorned."

Only I don't hate you.

It was a momentary rage

In which my mouth opened 

And uttered a proposterous curse.

"I hope you hurt!"

But I didn't expect it will be like this.

With you publicly slighted,

With you bravely smiling still

Even when your eyes are full of sorrow,

And your lips look stiff of smiling.

I want to reach out and touch your face,

To tell you it's going to be okay.

That it will be better with time.

That the pain will fade away.

Like the pain you caused me,

With your callous ingenuity,

And preference for paper-deep beauty.

I can still hear the words on paper,

And your silent laugh full of love

But not for me.

I wished you were deeply hurt.

Yes.

But not like this. 

With you working like there's no tomorrow,

While someone else moves on

Without you.

Took away your smile,

Which I begrudged you many months ago.

Did I really cause this?

Or was it your people-loving personality?

Which always craves praises,

Upon praises, upon praises.

Along with reaffirmation.

I knew all these, but I loved you still.

Nevertheless, I take back my words.

I hope your hurt will only last a moment.

And you find a firmer footing,

Where the person within,

Does not need any validation,

Except from yourself alone.

So that you may accept love,

A love that's true. 

A love that's deep.

A love that will fill in the void.

May your pain ebb away.

May your hurt fade away.

And your hurt turn into a road

For a brighter happy ending.


R.M. 2021.08.23

Wednesday, August 4, 2021

At the End of the Day

 At the end of the day

After many nights of tears and heartaches,

This treacherous heart slowly eases.

The ache fades bit by bit

Until all that’s left

Is the sadness.

Of regret, of sorrow.

Of things left unsaid.

The well of tears dries up

Like a wanton abandoning

Its troubled mate.

The eyes that can only see you

Slowly closes, little by little.

The weight drowning the crying heart

Lightens like the sun breaking the dawn.

And the memories start to fade

Until I can no longer see your face.

Your eyes, your hands, your lips

Become fleeting memories.

The blood that stopped moving within,

Caving into coldness,

Had started pumping through the veins

Bringing warmth and lightness

Even as this troubled soul reaches

The lowest trench within.

I can’t see you now.

I can’t remember the small things.

I have forgotten your voice.

All your whispered laughter and doubts.

The feet have started moving,

Forward. Forward. And forward still.

Is this emptiness

The void in the storm

That was once called your love?

Or is this how love ends.

Just like this.

Just like this.

Like winter and summer

With no spring in between?

A lone wolf’s cry breaks the silence,

And my feet keep on moving.

At the end of the day,

The road was empty and open still.


R.M.  2021.08.04