I Hope You Hurt

 I said this a million times before,

"I hope you hurt!" I exclaimed time and again.

And in my mind I kept saying,

"I hope you love deeply,

I hope you love so strongly,

I hope you love so painfully,

That when the love breaks and the emotions ebb,

Your suffering will be like a wishing well

With bottomless hope and despair."

Like melancholia found at the bottom of the steep,

Endless cave carved at the side of the highest mountain.

I hoped you would soar to the highest plains,

That when you fall, you would also feel

This insurmountable pain of loving--

And losing it.

Like a mind brought to ecstasy by a genius spark,

Only to plummet to oblivion because of unclear marks.

I wanted this. I wished this for you.

After you gave me hope, only to take more than your due.

So that you may find greener pastures,

And more beautiful views.

So I hated and hated and hated.

Even as I ached because I loved you.

Each day a gamble of whether I curse you,

Or I let go of you.

Of me thinking clearly and realizing I am breaking,

And of me not caring and wishing the same for you.

Should I go on? This parade of pain unseen.

My mind is filled with yeses and nos,

Of pain acknowledged and ignored.

I am walking forward, but I stay in place.

This is what it feels like to love and be unloved.

The tears have stopped falling, 

The heart keeps on beating with steady rhythm.

But it's all for show, all for appearances.

As all I want to do is ruin you and hurt you.

Yet I ask myself--Is it love

If I curse you for breaking my heart?

Will it still be love if I curse you with the same pain,

The same hollowness, the same sadness?

Or will it be like a tantrum of a child scorned?

Like an overindulged cat with no sense of compassion?

Will it still be love if I chant each day,

"I hope you hurt"?

It has become a case of foolishness and lack of control.

But I cannot stop. For now, I cannot stop.

As pain floods the soul and drives away rational thoughts,

All I could do is hang on to despair and its accompanying sorrow.

Letting the storm finish its course,

That I may stop hating and despairing

For a love gone. A love loss.

And maybe wish you happy tidings when I remember your smiles.

But for now, let me hang on to my curses,

Hoping you do not fall on them.

Or maybe not.

#R.M. 21.12.24

I Will Be Your Quiet Place

The silent worries you've carried in your heart

Take them out and place them in your palm. 

Then take this open box and place them here.

And feel your worries disappear.

At least for today. 

Take my hand, winter child

And let me keep you warm today.

No words are needed, just be this way

Smile, sigh or stare into the Milky Way

While I hold your hand.

Unplug yourself and feel at peace,

Even if the phone rings, there is no rush.

Feel free and let your muscles relax,

Be comforted that responsibilities

Are in my pockets today.

If you need to lie down and close your eyes,

Do not feel sorry; do not be alarmed.

I will keep count of the hours

And shield you from the rising sun.

Tomorrow is soon enough.

Do not be afraid to waste time today,

For my arms are wide enough

To enjoy the extreme and the banal.

There will be no shrieks of fear.

There will be no limits here.

When the phone keeps ringing,

Articles keep multiplying, and 

Many people find faults in all your doings,

Keep your head high and your heart strong.

I will be behind you through it all.

If the sun shines bright tomorrow

And your steps are lighter, your smile easier.

I will still keep your box of worries in my pocket.

And hold your hand, and pat your back.

I will be your quiet place, always constant.

R.M. 21.11.15

Thirty-Six

 I hope this becomes a new beginning,

A new year of blessings

Of joy, tears, and pain

Overshadowed by hope

And better tomorrows.

I hope today you start believing

That you are more than praises

And hollow words of love.

That you will see the bright path ahead

Without artificial lights.

I hope that you remember to stop

And rest, taking stock of what you have,

What you plan to have, what you can't.

And see that in everything,

There's a bigger plan.

I hope that you trust not just your heart

Or the confusing noise of people 

Who aims to please when you are around,

But who questions when you are not.

But trust the power bigger than you are.

I hope that you step out of the ocean

And believe that impossible things

Can happen according to plan,

If you just believe. Just believe.

An exercise of more than just the body.

I hope that you win more

Not just hearts and awards,

But also forgotten mornings, afternoons,

Evenings, including orange-pink dawn breaks.

Breathe. Breathe. And take joy in what you have.

I hope that you celebrate this day

More than with wine, cakes, and vodka.

More with laughter, love, and acceptance

That you can be just as you are,

And be loved. Deeply loved.

Dearest winter child, happy birthday.

#R.M. 21.11.11

Autumn Rain

As the heavy droplets hit the glass of the car

I remembered you and your sparkling smile.

Are you well, my love?

Did you catch a cold?

I know how much you dislike the changes

In temperature and seasons.

The heavy lineup of cars in front,

And at the back made me a little lonesome.

For they stopped the clock 

And gave me time to think

About the things I told myself

To give up--like you.

My dear winter-child who brings sunshine,

Your hold over me traverse

Time and universe.

When you left my letter unopened

And my messages unanswered,

I knew then that this bitter hope

Should not be given free rein any longer.

But here I am still thinking,

Still wishing, still counting down

The days, the hours, the minutes.

Even though for you, my tears are less precious

Than the droplets on my windshield.

We made no promises, but

My heart is weighed down by wishes.

The light finally turned green.

And as I move slowly, a little forward, 

A little stop.

I was thankful for the distraction of 

Mindless actions. Reflexes,

Like my heart beating with your name,

And my eyes only seeing you

Despite the heavy rain.

The leaves are falling still.

Their colors are changing, even

As they get blown by the bitter wind.

They don't know where they are going.

But as they fall on the ground, wet,

They still hope for rebirth

And possibly, love.

#rmpsd 21.11.01